I Hear You Screaming
by Greenstuff
Summary: WIP Sequel to To See You Smile. A new Dark Lord is rising in power and Hermione and Severus take it into their hands to stop him. HGSS
1. Prologue

_I Hear You Screaming_

_Prologue _

Harry Potter was angry.

He hadn't always been angry. There had been a time when he was a small boy where he was more sad than angry. That was before he knew that on top of not loving him at all, his aunt and uncle had been lying to him for his entire life. That was also before he found out about Voldemort.

Voldemort was the focus of his anger in school. Voldemort was also the reason no one had noticed the steadily building loathing towards everything that developed rapidly over the years of fighting for nothing and trying to carry a responsibility far beyond his age. The anger helped him focus on school. The only way he would ever be able to remove responsibility from his shoulders was to kill Voldemort and so he studied. But resentment can only lay dormant for so long; it won't wait a life time.

By the time the final battle finally took place Harry had no reason to his anger anymore. He hated everything. The closest he came to not hating were his two best friends. Ron was always there making him laugh and distracting him with Quidditch when life got to be too much. Hermione on the other hand treated him like anything but the hero of the wizarding world and he respected her for that. Of course he had loved them once upon a time. They had been his first friends after a lifetime of loneliness and abuse and he had cherished them. But anger is a vicious creature and so the love had soon faded into a mild dislike that, in comparison to the contempt in which he held everything and everyone else, was a positive feeling.

The final battle was the only thing Harry didn't hate thinking about. He dwelt on it for years before it happened, pouring over Muggle and Wizarding strategies alike, telling anyone who disturbed him that he thought strategy would be how they would defeat Voldemort. They would always nod wisely and, with a sad smile at their 'hero', return to whatever they had been doing never noticing the smirk he sent after them. In reality it wasn't the strategies he was looking at (at least not the fighting strategies). Instead he poured for hours on end over ancient and modern methods of eliciting pain. His favorite war was, surprisingly, a Muggle one. While flipping idly through one of the many history books he had borrowed from Hermione he came across a picture. The picture showed a room full of people; their body's barely more than bones from the lack of food. They wore no real clothing and stared sadly at the camera from near lifeless eyes: Jews.

Of course in his years of Muggle schooling before Hogwarts Harry had heard of the holocaust. There weren't many Muggles who weren't given at least cursory knowledge of it. But the Dursleys had seen nothing wrong with Heir Hitler's elimination of the "freaks" – their only spoken regret actually being that the man had not accidentally burnt himself along with the rest of society's outcasts – and so Harry had kept quiet on the topic. Vernon was especially emphatic in his support and any conversation on the matter caused Petunia to wring her hands and check the windows nervously as if the neighbors were hiding in the bushes just waiting for a scandal. Harry had learnt quickly that it was easier to just leave his questions alone. Unfortunately, as a result of his silence, Harry had an extremely skewed version of history. As far as Harry saw it Hitler had simply been a man who had lived before his time.

When the final battle was over and how quickly it had ended, years of careful planning and countless worries concluded in less than an hour, Harry had been at a loss. Voldemort had squirmed delightfully under Harry's final curse before shriveling up and disappearing in a cloud of acrid smoke taking with him everything Harry had lived for. He had been left bereft and considering suicide with the only thing keeping him from it being his lack of good ideas for the manner of his death. He didn't feel it would be fitting for the boy-who-lived to die at his own hands; he would have to frame someone. The sadist within him which had grown to be such a prominent part of his person that he couldn't differentiate between it and the boy he had once been told him to frame Hermione or Albus Dumbledore or some other unsuspecting hindrance to his life thus far. Fortunately for Hermione and Albus Dumbledore the Aurors found Harry standing over Voldemort's final resting place, if you could call the bare patch of ground a resting place, staring vacantly into space with an insane smile spread over his features and transported him to St Mungos for observation.

St Mungos quickly became Harry's least favorite place in the world. This only went to say he loathed everything about it without preamble unlike Hogwarts or the Burrow which he had enjoyed for brief moments before the hatred could seep in. The white rooms with their white walls and furnishings and lighting left his feeling exposed and irritable. The Nurses quickly gave up on entering his room after he attacked two of them when they tried to bring him medications. His status as a hero kept his near insanity on the down low, not that Harry would have cared at this point in his life. He couldn't sleep in the tiny white bed in the tiny white room, it felt too much like a coffin and as much as he was still contemplating a way to end his ruined life he couldn't stomach the thought of sleeping in the ministry designed coffin. His refusal to sleep rapidly developed into a necessary non-somnia and he spent all day and night plotting his escape or daydreaming about what we would do once he escaped. Revenge on the dimwitted fools who had put him in this box was first on the list and he had it planned out in excruciating detail.

He knew that the men were both Aurors and as such they would suffer worse than if they had been any other profession, Aurors had never been kind to the boy wonder and they would come to regret that, Harry was quite certain. Harry was certain in fact of his escape and the carrying out of revenge that he became quite resigned to his limited time stay the hospital. So long as he glowered at anyone who tried to talk to him he would be left alone in his well warded private chamber to sit and wait for the perfect opportunity.

A/N: Alright. This is, of course, just the introduction to what I'm hoping will be a medium length HG/SS fiction. There will be sections from Harry's POV throughout but this should be the only chapter this just features his mind. Thanks for reading PLEASE REVIEW!

Next chapter : we get into the plot (and the chapters get a little longer)


	2. Part I A Colorless World

_Part I – A Colorless World_

Hermione smiled over at Severus who was muttering bitterly to himself while attempting to dice beetles into perfectly symmetrical pieces. She found herself sitting and watching him often when she believed he couldn't see her. His movements were so agile, almost feline in their grace, and he had the most amazing hands. Long and pale his fingers tapered nicely at the ends and seemed to dance as he worked. She believed she could watch his movements all day if he would allow it, but she was relatively certain that the moment he saw her 'gaping' at him he would snap a sarcastic comment her way and then she would be angry at him despite it being her own stupid fault, and that wouldn't do at all.

She was still doing research for the other professors while she continued to rest and allow her body time to heal. Poppy and Severus were both very optimistic that she might regain all of her sight with time or at least that was the front they presented. Hermione know however that it was more than a little unlikely and had reconciled herself almost completely to a colorless world. The only thing she found herself struggling to come to terms with was the fact that she would never again be able to brew a Potion since she only really could use four of her five senses. She could do charms though, and ancient runes and arithmancy were quickly becoming favorite past-times for her. Currently she was working on a paper for Filius Flitwick all about wandless magic and what separated the witches and wizards able to perform wandless magic from those who were unable. It was thus far a fascinating study, not the least because she had a case study working in front of her for the majority of every day.

She was surprised and more than a little pleased that Severus had allowed her to stay after she had gained a clean bill of health from Madame Pomfrey but then she supposed the nuisance her being there had caused was now something he had grown accustomed to and, since she was not yet at one hundred percent in her health, it was easier for him to allow her to use his study and workroom for her research than it would be for him or one of the other professors to check on her several times each day. With a contented sigh Hermione settled back in her chair and returned to the project she was working on. Today's section of study was the purpose of a wand as a magical conductor and the effect of not using one. It was fascinating stuff, just not quite so fascinating as the man working on the other side of the room.

Hearing Hermione sigh Severus raised his head from his cutting board and smiled softly at her. There had been no more unbearably awkward confessions of feelings between them in the days since Hermione had reawaken with her sight returned but there were times when he caught himself getting lost in her pretty face, fantasizing about what her lips would feel like against his own. Of course such thoughts were utterly ridiculous, not to mention completely inappropriate. She was no longer his student but she was still under his care and to take advantage of the respect she showed him would be reprehensible. Unfortunately, as strong as his willpower was he couldn't help but stare at her innocent beauty at moments like this when she was so completely focused on her work he was certain she wouldn't notice if he walked right up to her so long as he didn't get between her and her research.

He let out a derisive snort at that. He still had to hound her every night to be sure that she packed up her books and left them in his study in order to retire for bed. He had once made the mistake of allowing her to take a book into her chambers at night. Her excuse had been she had just two more paragraphs to go but if he was so tired she would just finish them in the comfort of her chambers before getting a good night's rest. Well the next day she had resembled a raccoon with the size and darkness of the circles under her eyes and she barely moved all day except to yawn or rub at her left temple where he was sure a wicked headache was amassing from the lack of rest. He felt almost cruel for rousing her at six for breakfast as he had taken to doing weeks before but it seemed that they had both learned that particular lesson well for Hermione had never again attempted to bring a book into her rooms. No, He shook his head slightly, but she had tried more than once to get him to just leave her in the study, promising to retire when she was tired. She had yet to win one of those arguments, though she always gave valiant effort.

"Severus Snape?" A masculine voice form the fireplace brought Severus' attention back to the room around him.

"Alastor Moody?" he questioned, moving towards the older man a look of extreme curiosity on his face.

Hermione did not even turn to glance at their visitor. Whether it was in hopes that she wouldn't be noticed and dismissed if important matters were to be discussed or whether is was because she was indeed impossible to disturb while working Severus wasn't sure, though he would bet quite a large sum of galleons that it was the former.

"What can I do for you Alastor?" Severus worked hard to keep his voice civil. He had never much liked Moody, one of the reasons that he had been unable, much to his disgust, to identify Barty Crouch when he was impersonating the paranoid Auror.

"Well," Alastor drawled, giving the room a thorough once over with his magical eye while focusing his natural eye on Severus's face. It was really quite unnerving. "It seems we have a situation on our hands much different from what we thought before."

Despite himself Severus was intrigued. "What sort of situation Moody?" He asked a sharp edge to his voice that told Moody to be straight about it and not mince words.

Alastor motioned to the door. "I think this is a talk best done in private Snape."

"Hermione's a part of this no matter how little you Aurors like it," Severus said fixing Moody with a fearsome glower. "Now what's the problem?"

"The clues all add up," Alastor began cryptically, "but no one in the Order want to see reason, which is why I've come to you. I assume Albus told you about Harry's body not really being Harry's."

Severus nodded curtly, "Yes he told me."

"Good. I thought he would. Anyhow, to get to the point, the body was Ginny Weasley's"

Hermione gasped in horrified shock. Both Albus and Severus had neglected to tell her that Ginny was the body they had found beaten and raped and disguised as Harry's. She felt tears spring to her eyes but fought them aside knowing that if she began to loose control now she would be asked to leave and she would never know what was going on. Apparently they all still believed her too much an invalid to handle something as potent as the truth.

Severus shot a quick worried glance in Hermione's direction and motioned for Moody to continue.

"There was a message on her body," Alastor refrained from saying the message had been carved in while the victim was still alive only out of sensitivity for Hermione. "It said that a new Dark Lord had arisen from the ashes stronger and more dangerous than the first. It said he was gathering the forces of darkness and that the girl was just the first in a long line of his betrayers who would meet their demise."

Severus' eyes widened in shock but he said nothing.

"Well, from all the evidence I can gather there's only one person this new Dark Lord could be."

"Harry," the soft, sad voice from the chair startled both men. Moody gaped openly at her, for once at a loss for words.

It was several moments before Severus moved to her side, "How do you know?"

"Well its obvious isn't it? What other explanation is there for Harry's sudden incarceration and then equally sudden disappearance from the institution. And the daily profit said that a Nurse on duty the night Harry disappeared had been brutally murdered. It makes perfect sense." Her face crumpled as soon as she finished her speech and she cried softly into her hands.

Alastor was staring at Hermione still in shock. "I thought she couldn't see," he said shooting Severus a strange look.

"She couldn't when Harry disappeared she had since recovered and obviously gone behind my back to research her friend's disappearance," he shot a disapproving look towards the grieving young woman but it soon softened into a look of compassion.

"Well no one ever said Gryffindors could be trusted," Moody winked and walked back towards the hearth, "but since you know now what I needed you to hear I'd best be off. Oh," he paused in front of the fireplace, "I'd be real appreciative if you'd tell Albus all about this. Seems he thinks I'm being paranoid. Though I'm not sure anyone could ever get him to turn on his golden boy." With a shake of his head Moody disappeared through the fire.

Severus made his way quickly to Hermione's side and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Will you be alright?" he asked as gently as he could.

Hermione sniffed once loudly and turned a brave smile in Severus' direction. "Yes, I will. I don't have much choice do I?"

He sighed heavily at the truth in her statement and the wisdom in her eyes. "No, none of us does right now."

She covered his hand, still on her shoulder, with her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It'll all work out Severus, somehow it has to."

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A/N: I know I promised length in the chapters. But I thought it was better to post something short than to make you wait another couple months for my muse to get back into this story. PLEASE REVIEW


	3. Part II An Unwelcome Visitor

Part II – An Unwelcome Visitor

Albus sat quietly in his office his clear blue eyes scanning the pictures Alaster had owled to him. They were graphic and painful to behold but he had to examine them himself. Alaster had told him that the evidence all pointed to Harry being the rising Dark Lord but Albus wouldn't believe it. Harry may have been an unhappy boy for the last four years but that didn't mean he was evil. He blissfully ignored the nagging thought of his one visit to Harry while the boy was in St Mungos.

_Flashback_

"_He's just in here Dumbledore Sir, you watch out now, he's taken a turn for the worse and he's darn next to impossible to talk to these days." The kindly nurse smiled at him before disappearing rapidly down the hall. _

_Albus watched her disappear with a half smile. He understood that Harry was probably quite furious at being locked up in St Mungos. He had never been a boy for seeking praise, but to be locked up in stead of celebrated for the defeat of Voldemort must have been a serious blow to his ego. He turned the door knob and slipped into the room. _

_Harry was standing with his back to the door, his messy hair silhouetted against the cheery sunlight streaming from the single window. Albus saw Harry's shoulders stiffen as the door clicked shut but still the boy didn't turn around. _

"_How are you holding up Harry?" Albus asked his voice awash with concern. _

_A scornful snort of laughter was the only answer he received. _

_Albus raised a brow in surprise and for a moment the eternal twinkle seemed to disappear from his eyes. "Are they treating you well?" _

_Harry's hands clenched into fists at his sides, "As well as they are expected to I'm sure. Crazy people aren't high on anyone's priority list in this world."_

_Albus winced at that grief filling his very soul. How greatly they had failed this boy. "Do sit down Harry I've some news for you that I think might improve things a bit." _

_Harry turned finally and regarded Albus with empty emerald eyes. His skin was paler than Albus had ever seen it and his once cheery mouth was leveled into a tight line as if it had been ironed that way. "What makes you think I care for your news?" the scorn in Harry's voice momentarily took the wind for Albus' sails but soon he regained his usual twinkly demeanor._

"_Well, it's about your friend Hermione," he said in hopes of drawing the angry boy in. _

_Harry raised an eyebrow doing a decent impression of Severus' expression when he thought someone was being incredibly naïve. "So she's alive then is she?" Harry asked coldly._

_Albus wasn't a man who was shocked very often but today was quite the exception. He gaped at Harry a moment before narrowing his eyes in annoyance. "Yes she is Harry. She's blind, but she's alive. And she wishes for a visit from you." He had lied at the last bit; truly it was Severus who thought that Hermione would benefit form a chat with 'that menace Potter'. _

_Harry let out a mirthless laugh. "Blind is she?" His eyes glinted with amusement, the first sign of life in them since Albus had entered. "Bet she wishes she weren't alive at all. Blind people are next to useless in our world." He gave Dumbledore a crooked smile that sent chills down the older man's spine. "Thanks for the offer Dumbledore, but I'll pass on visiting the useless. Don't worry too much though, I'll be sure to come to the funeral when she kills herself." _

_Albus' eyes widened in shocked fury, "Harry Potter, I am shocked at your callousness. How could you be so cruel to Hermione?" _

"_What, I'm supposed to cheerful about living up to the destiny you've all been shoving down my throat and finally defeating Voldemort only to be locked up in here without explanation or any idea why?" Harry's eyes were narrowed into angry slits. "You know what Albus? I'm through. I'm not playing the boy-hero part any longer. Get out and for Merlin's sake never come back."_

_Albus eyed the boy sorrowfully. "Alright Harry, I will go. But I will always be with you." Harry had watched with angry eyes as the Headmaster let himself out of the room. Albus kept of the façade of calm only until he was out of the room. He leaned against the wall beside Harry's door and let his entire body sag from sadness. _

_end flashback _

"Albus!"

The Headmaster turned to face the owner of the furious voice. "Ah, Severus, what can I do for you my boy?"

Severus narrowed his eyes into a glower he hated when Albus spoke to as if he were an errant second year. "I've come to rid you of your delusions," It took a large amount of willpower to refrain from adding old man to the end of the sentence, but Severus was a master of control. "Moody said you wouldn't be convinced that Potter has turned to the dark arts." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Deluding ourselves will help no one. Did we learn nothing from Fudge?"

Albus let out a great sigh. "I know Severus. He's not the boy he used to be. I just can't help hoping there is some way to make him see reason." He shook his head sadly, "but I suppose I'm just being a delusional old man." He fixed Severus with an amused glance.

"Touché" Severus said with a smile. "Now what are we going to do about Potter? If we act now perhaps we can get to him before he has followers to back him up."

"Yes," Albus looked thoughtful, "but who can we send? The Aurors have no subtlety and everyone in the Order is too connected to the old Harry, the one we all worked so hard to protect. I doubt any of them could kill him if it came down to that."

"I'll go."

"Are you certain? It will be more dangerous for you because any followers he has will hate you more than the rest of our side for your betrayal."

"I'll go." Severus' expression dared any arguments.

"Alright, I'll have Moody brief you on what we know, it's not much but I have faith in your ability. Minerva can watch out for Hermione until you come back."

"Thank you Albus." Severus stood and, with a slight bow, left for his dungeons.

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"You're going WHERE?"

"Well I'm not sure exactly where but Moody seems to think northern Whales is as good a place to start as any other."

Hermione glower at him, "Pedant!"

"I apologize," he said stiffly taking a seat beside her on the work bench. "But you must see that it's the only way to stop history from repeating itself."

"Yes but, why can't an Auror or another Order member go? If Harry sees you he won't hesitate to kill you. Even when he wasn't an evil dark lord in training he would have maimed or killed you without a moment's hesitation he thought he could get away with it." She bowed her head and bit her lip in an attempt to regain control.

He sat silently. He knew she didn't really need his explanations.

A few moments later she raider her head and looked at him. "You volunteered didn't you?" she asked accusingly.

He nodded. "It was the best way."

"I'm going with you."

"You most certainly are not!" He exclaimed sharply.

"Yes I am. You're not going off to defeat the newest dark lord formerly my best friend without me to help you. He may be evil but he's still Harry. I know him, I can help." She held his gaze for a moment and then continued in a hushed tone "And besides, I'll go crazy with worry if I stay here."

Severus swallowed hard. "You know I can't let you do that Hermione. Harry isn't himself any longer there's no telling what seeing you would do to him. And if there's no way to turn him you couldn't take that next step."

She nodded mutely, tears gathering in her eyes. "Be careful."

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise." He said softly, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

Hermione drew a deep steadying breath and pulled away. She took Severus' face in her hands and stared deeply into his eyes for a few moments. "Promise me you won't do anything brave."

"I promise." He said softly, his eyes locked with hers.

She stared hard at him for a moment, as if testing his resolve. And then, slowly, giving him a chance to pull away if he wanted to she raised her mouth to meet his in a chaste kiss.

For a moment they were lost in the wonder of that first kiss. And then reality set back in. Severus pulled away, and with a slight smile, turned his full attention to preparing for his upcoming mission. Hermione remained on the work bench watching him move about. Her hands clenched nervously in her lap as she attempted to keep from crying.

She was successful for 21 minutes.

It took a mere 20 minutes for Severus to pull together all the belongings he might need for his journey. Finished he gave a final farewell to Hermione and was on his way.

Nearly the same moment as the door closed behind him Hermione lost her iron grip over her emotions. She cried silently, hands still clenched in her lap, tears dripped slowly from her chin leaving water marks scattered across her light blue jeans. Her despair held her in place for what felt like hours, the only movement in the silent tears tracking their way down her pale face. _I will never see him again_.

Dark was beginning to fall as Severus made his way silently out of the gates. He allowed on last look at the stone castle that had been his only home. He allowed himself 30 seconds. 30 seconds to wallow in the sorrow so intense he couldn't breathe. He wouldn't be back. Somehow he knew that he wouldn't be back. He was a cunning man and a lucky one, but even cats had only nine lives. Everything he'd ever loved was there, in the stone walls whose protection he must leave for the protection of all within them. The battle with Voldemort had taken a toll on everyone. No one could handle another Dark Lord this soon, especially not one they all worshipped, even him (Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, ever). Voldemort's death had marked the beginning of the life he had always thought was out of reach; Freedom, respect, maybe even love? No use wondering about that now. He raised a hand in silent farewell and disapperated into the ducky sky.

It was dark in the dungeons when Hermione finally rose. The last of the Muggle wax candles Severus favored had flickered out nearly an hour ago, but she couldn't bring herself to rise. Severus was the only friend she had, and now he was gone to kill, or be kill by, a boy she had loved like a brother her entire life. She took a deep shuddering breath. "Enough," she said softly, her voice horse with emotion. "Enough."

She rose to her feet, limbs tingling as circulation was once again restored. She stood for a moment allowing the blood to find its natural rhythm again and then moved about the room lighting new candles as she went. There was work to be done.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who has stuck by so far! I hope you liked the chapter. It's another short one but my muse will end chapters where she wants no matter how many words I try and cram in. For those of you who might be angry at me for Harry... Sorry shrugs he's not a nice fellow and he's not getting better anytime soon:P


	4. Part III The Search for Something More

_A/N: This chapter pretty much wrote itself. It's alot more indepth than I planned on going into the character motivations so I hope I don't bore you out of your skulls :D _

_Part III – The Search for Something More_

Severus ran a hand through his lank black hair and sighed with exhaustion. Already he had been gone for five days, five long days of fruitless searching. Most of his sources from the old days were dead and Harry hadn't begun gathering forces or making his presence known in earnest so he was nearly impossible to locate. Fortunately for Severus he still maintained a decent relationship with many of his old contacts from his days as a spy. He had had hoped against he wouldn't have to use his network, but after five days of miserable failure he was out of options.

This was why the exhausted professor was making his weary way up the wide stone path that lead to the Malfoy's summer cottage in the south of France. He had only been to the beautiful unplottable villa a handful of times, Lucius had been so proud to be made secret keeper for his parent's million galleon villa he had been unable to resist showing it off to his half-blood shadow. An act, almost Gryffindor in its reckless idiocy, which he was sure Lucius would live to regret.

The Malfoy family as a whole, or at least the three generations with which Severus was intimately acquainted, liked nothing more than to be in complete control of those around them. And so they surrounded themselves with people who would do as they were told. Though most were fooled by the intelligence of such friends into thinking the Malfoy's weren't shameless bullies, Severus knew the truth of it. The Severus of Hogwarts days was such a person. Bullied by Potter and his gang, ignored by most everyone else, he had been starved for recognition. His Slytherin pride shunned pity or genuine regard but when the much older Malfoy blackmailed second-year Severus into helping out with a Potions project Severus found a life-long compatriot. He watched the elegant blonde sixth year with something akin to admiration and even found himself mimicking the smooth, detached, aristocratic way that Lucius talked.

Theirs was, however, a very Slytherin friendship. Each using the other for his gain with very little consideration and no feeling involved. There were no cozy little chats or sickening displays of regard. In fact anyone you asked would say they didn't even know each other except in passing. In the summers however, when Severus didn't want to go home or Lucius needed a distraction, they could be found sharing a quiet moment or wandering the spacious Malfoy lands in search of amusements.

When Lucius took the Dark Mark and became completely enthralled with his search for Power Severus felt abandoned but he channeled that energy into being better. Better than Lucius, better than Potter, just... Better. He experimented wildly with potions and the dark arts. He created spells to match the more vicious fantasies he had about revenge on those who had humiliated and used him and he withdrew until he was a shell of himself, a cold calculating shell prone to outbursts of rage but not much else by way of emotion. When he graduated he was immediately accepted into the folds of the Dark Lord's ever growing army.

It was there that he began to return to himself. The Dark Lord admired his skills most emphatically, and in a cunning stroke of Slytherin genius Voldemort made sure to do so in Lucius' presence at every opportunity. What was once a friendship dissolved into a bitter rivalry, each attempting to outdo the other with the strength of their powers and the place they held in the circle.

And then it came, the night that changed everything. The prophesy. The perfect victory over Lucius, nothing he could do could top that. He rushed to tell his Lord, puffed up with naïve pride at the sheer luck of being in the right place at the right time. It was only later, in the wee hours of the morning with the one to many shot of fire whiskey burning its way into his gut, that he thought for real about the consequences of that prophesy. If it was true then it was over, all of it; the war, the prestige, the thrill of danger that tinged every outing and the entire world as he knew it. People like him, half-bloods would be no more. The Wizarding world would slowly and surely die out as purebloods had fewer and fewer healthy children.

He had shaken off his maudlin thoughts and ordered another round. But as the buzz of alcohol wore off slowly clearing the pleasantly warm fog about his brain the sense of urgency and panic did not leave with it. It didn't take long for him to realize it wasn't going to. When he could stand it no longer, after nights of drinking himself into a stupor to stave of thinking, and then charming himself sober in time to greet the day, days with no sleep nor rest for his weary soul he cracked. Hogwarts had always seemed a strange world unto itself, completely unruffled by the events outside its walls; a haven, a stronghold, home.

He would never forget the dusky evening he stumbled through those gates. So tired he could barely walk and yet unable to rest his eyes for even a second. Albus had met him just inside the gate. Those twinkling blue eyes the same as he remembered hating in his school days suddenly the most welcome sights he had ever beheld. And for the first time in more than a decade, Severus Snape cried.

Albus had stood there, watching this grown man wrack with sobs, saying nothing, until the tears had exhausted themselves and then only smiling wisely and ushering the limp body of his visitor through a series of seldom used corridors and into his office. The story had spilled from Severus without ceasing for so much as a moment once it had begun. Albus didn't judge he didn't even seem to react except for the empathy that poured from every gesture and look. When the tale was spent Severus felt immense relief coupled with crippling fear. He was going to die.

He told Dumbledore as much and was appalled to receive a light hearted chuckle as his only reply. "Not if I have any say in the matter my boy," the old man said with a twinkle. And that was it. Severus found himself thrust into a role he had unconsciously been training for his entire life. It was thrilling and it was terrifying and now, after many long years, years that had aged him a decade or more beyond his age, he was ready to be done.

It was a thrilling life for a twenty year old with a chip the size of Europe clouding his perception but age had brought a semblance of wisdom and he knew he was too old for this, too old and too tired. But a life surrounded by Gryffindors had instilled a sense of bravery and duty that had carried him to this point. With a slight shake of his head to clear errant memories he tapped the brass knocker twice against the solid oak door and stepped back to wait.

He didn't have to wait long. One of the bonuses of having an unplottable home was the lack of unwelcome company. The door swung open to reveal not Lucius but his wife. Narcissa's face betrayed not a hint of surprise she must have felt upon seeing her husband's acquaintance standing on her doorstep, looking half dead from exhaustion and a lack of sleep. Instead she smiled coolly at him and gestured for him to enter. "Severus, you look a little tired. Why don't you follow tweeky here to the spare room and freshen up. I'll go tell Lucius you're here, he'll be thrilled."

Severus couldn't help but want to laugh. Lucius would be anything but thrilled. Their acquaintance hadn't ended on the best of terms. After his confession to Dumbledore he had decided to take up the offer to spy wholeheartedly, but when the Dark Lord disappeared that fateful Halloween Severus had been relieved, certain that Voldemort was gone for good he had naively abandoned all pretense of wanting to purify the Wizarding world. He still cultivated his kinship with Lucius, but with no Dark Lord to manipulate them into a tenuous peace they fought viciously about anything and everything. The feud only increased when Draco entered Hogwarts. Severus was the boy's godfather and inclined to try and make him more than his father, perhaps even instill a sense of free thought and independence something that Lucius could not abide. Upon Voldemort's return they formed a truce of sorts but the friendship they had once enjoyed was warped beyond recognition.

However, part of being a Death Eater had been learning the ways of upper crust Pureblood society and so; he bowed his head in gracious acknowledgement and followed the house elf to an empty room down the hall to set his appearance to rights. A few quick charms and his tattered looking robes were clean and free of tears or any visible wear and his skin clean of the grime left by his floo trip to France that morning.

He found his own way to the library where he and Lucius always cloistered themselves during his visits. He found Lucius sitting in his usual high-back leather chair sipping a snifter of brandy and flipping idly through a heavy volume written in a language Severus didn't recognize and would bet money Lucius couldn't read.

Silver eyes met black in a silent appraisal as Severus stood near the door awaiting the invitation to sit. "Severus, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Lucius asked smoothly. To an outsider it would seem they were great friends but Severus was not fooled by the friendly tone.

"I'm here to help you with the big words," he sneered, gesturing to the book on Lucius' lap, "Cissy wasn't sure you could handle something that important on your own."

Lucius pursed his lips in annoyance. "Brandy?"

"Thank you, no." Severus said taking the seat opposite his adversary. "Though you look as though you could use a refill," He reached to take the nearly empty glass form Lucius' pale fingers.

"I'll get it myself," Lucius snapped. "I like my brandy without vertaserum," he said dryly.

Severus laughed, "I had hoped for a little more credit Lucius. We've neither of us fallen for such a cheap trick even at Hogwarts."

Lucius saluted him with his refilled glass, "too true. But you can't begrudge a man in my position a little caution."

"Fair enough, so how are things on that front? I've been so trapped at Hogwarts I've barely heard the rumors. Is it true that our Lord has once again returned?"

Lucius took a long slow sip of brandy appearing to ponder the question. "I think not," He said slowly, "none of the old crowd has felt his presence. I have heard rumors of another, but I would have though that you, like myself, would be loathe to subject to another master."

"That would be true," Severus said, "but that I've already got another master and I doubt there is much that could be worse than a tottering old fool and a school filled with idiots."

Lucius snorted. "You may have chosen better than myself," he admitted truthfully, his eyes widening in shock, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said. "How did you do it?" he asked sharply, setting the tumbler aside with a bang.

The smile that spread over Severus' face could only be called predatory. "What do you know of the new Dark Lord?"

"It's that brat Potter." Lucius growled, "He's turned me out of my own home. The little imposter, he thinks he can do it, what our Lord did but he can't."

Lucius' rant was cut short by the sound of stilettos clicking on the marble hallway. "How are you holding up since Draco passed?" Severus asked just in time to redirect the questioning before Narcissa opened the door and peeked in.

"Is everything alright Lucius dear?" She asked sweetly, shooting their guest a suspicious look.

"Everything is perfect Narcissa," Severus reassured her, rising to block the view of her husband who was turning nearly purple in an attempt to communicate through the silencing spell Severus had thrown in his direction at the very last moment. "Though I would die for some of those delicious scones the house elves made up last time we were about. You wouldn't mind fetching me some would you? I'd allow you to send a house elf, but this is a rather sensitive topic and I'd rather you over hear than one of those creatures."

With a final glare Narcissa bowed out of the room. Severus whirled quickly and began setting the room to rights. He swapped the spiked bottle of brandy for an uncontaminated one and then turned his wand on Lucius. "Finite incantatem! obliviate!" he hissed in rapid succession. "Brandy Lucius?" he offered, "you're looking a little pale."

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A/N: I'm going with Severus being born in '58 rather than '59 to get the kind of age gap I want for this relationship. Since it's not clear exactly what year Sev is born in and Lucius is born in '54. Also since this was conceived pre OOTP let alone HBP I am taking many liberties with Severus' conversion and writing for him something I think fits his intellect and personality, or at least the version of that personality portrayed here. Thanks for reading I hope you liked it!


	5. Part IV The Ones Left Behind

_PART IV – The Ones Left Behind_

Whistling a little to himself Severus retraced his steps form earlier that day, this time his thoughts were light and his steps brisk. He had a location, and Lucius was completely in the dark. Narcissa may have a suspicion or two, but if his luck held Lucius would continue to only see the cosmetic value in his rather remarkable wife. It wasn't until he reached the village from which he had flooed that he realized the enormity of what lay ahead.

He had been able to block it for a time, consumed by the search for Potter's location. Despite all protestations to the contrary Severus Snape was well aware of Potter's rather remarkable magical powers. And now that Potter had surrendered to the seductive Dark mages there was no knowing what his limitations were. Severus was a powerful wizard and willing to do what it took dark or light to achieve his ends, but he was also wise enough not to underestimate his opponent. The self-satisfied smirk he had worn since exiting the Malfoy grounds faded into a more familiar scowl.

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Hermione squinted at the messy handwriting before her wondering for the hundredth time why she bothered. She's translated almost a third of the little brown notebook that claimed to be the definitive work on the origins of Unforgivable curses. She had been hopeful that it would contain some long hidden secret to defeating or at least defending against he curses as she was probably the first witch in a hundred years to try and read it. Albus had found the book in his Family vault at Gringotts he said he hadn't been in there since just following the final battle against Grindewald, when he had gone there to offload several crates of "magical items of a questionable nature". One of those items was this book.

The cover was faded brown leather and the pages were crisp and yellowed with age. The entire thing was scribbled in a spiky script and every word of it was Latin. It was the Latin that made it so difficult. Hermione had actually picked up a working knowledge of Latin at university but all this translating threatened to pile a migraine on her already burdened brain.

"_I first encountered this rather remarkable curse in March of last year. I was staying at the Three Unicorn Inn in Brighton when I got on the foul side of a pair of the nastiest looking wizards I'd ever laid eyes upon. In cases such as these one really must keep a cool head, but I'd been in the brew already for nigh an hour so I wasn't hard to catch unawares. Were I sober or aware they meant me harm they wouldn't' have had time to utter those fateful words. But as event he best can be caught un aware by a fool's trickery, the curse hit me from behind and had me on the ground screaming as though I were to die in a matter of seconds. I felt as if I would die. My bones were achingly cold, my muscles locked in unending spasms and my head pained so that I thought it might explode. I'm certain I screamed in agony you could probably have heard me half way to London yet no one left the shops to come to my aid. Too scared I reckon. I later learned the wizards; followers of Grindewald, had their jollies practicing on the Muggle Townsfolk. Their accounts of the attacks made for very interesting study."_

Hermione groaned and let her tired head rest heavily against the table top. "I'll never find it," she moaned.

"_Each Muggle described it about the same, a short blast maybe 30 seconds in reality but what felt like hours. Pain so severe it literally drives one mad. The initial blast curls your muscles so tightly it feels as though they will snap off the bones. Next your bones ache, a deep cold ache not unlike throwing yourself into a mostly frozen pond. After that is your blood, screaming hot, like it would boil you alive, and then there is your brain: expanding until you're sure your aching skull will explode beneath the pressure. You scream but that brings no release. You can't get more air your muscles have forsaken you. Your heart beats erratically and then just as it is about to stop the pain ceases and you're left gasping for air, aching everywhere, almost wishing you were dead._

"_Quickly I became fascinated by the curse so powerful it could reduce a man of my power to the same pathetic puddle of pain and terror as the lowliest Muggle. And so I endeavored to find this Grindewald and take from him what knowledge I could."_

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, this was promising. There were no known memoirs from Grindewald or his followers. Perhaps Harold had learnt something useful. She reloaded her quill and eagerly began translating the next passage.

She didn't get more than a few sentences translated before she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Miss Granger?" A voice called from the doorway, pulling her attention from her work.

"Headmaster," she acknowledged him with a weary smile.

"Is everything all right?" He asked kindly, moving into the room and closing the door behind him.

"As well as can be expected," she answered, gamely attempting to look as though she didn't hate him for interrupting her just when old Harold finally got interesting.

"We've missed you in the Great Hall; you look as though you haven't eaten in days." His smile was kind but there was steel in his gaze that made Hermione squirm.

"I've been keeping busy."

"As I thought. You will be at dinner tonight then?"

It wasn't a question.

"Of course Headmaster." She acquiesced.

"Good." He opened the door and began to leave the room, pausing in the doorway to say, "Severus is very careful, if anyone can come out of this all right it's him."

Hermione sent him a genuinely grateful smile, "Thank you."

He nodded and disappeared from the room.

Hermione stared after him for a moment, her tired eyes filled with tears, and suddenly Harold's discovery could wait. "Five minutes," she promised herself, laying her head atop a blank piece of parchment. Tears soaked the dry pages leaving brown splotches on the pristine sheets. Before long she had lapsed into a deep sleep.

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Dinner in the Great Hall was well underway but that was the least important thing on Albus Dumbledore's mind as he made his way into the bowels of the castle. It had been a week since Severus left; seven long days and no word to say whether he was safe or successful. Though the Headmaster knew communication would be difficult, well nigh impossible even, he had been hopeful that Severus would have sent a message of some type to settle the nerves of those who cared for him. Hermione Granger's fear filled eyes skated across his mind and he sighed. She hadn't shown up at dinner, but he was hardly surprised. As far as the portraits and house elves could be trusted she worked all day and most of the night barely sleeping and not eating more than a mouthful or two of the trays the house elves continuously supplied her with.

He stopped his walk outside the Potion Master's private lab and knocked at the door. Hermione did not answer so Albus slipped the door open as quietly as possible and entered the room for the second time that day. She was at the desk her head resting at an awkward angle against a stack of parchment. She was fast asleep.

Gently so as not to wake her form her much-needed rest he levitated her and moved her to the settee Severus kept in his lab for nights when he lacked the energy to make it to his chambers. Albus was just covering Hermione with a conjured blanket when she began to stir. "Shhh go back to sleep Hermione," he said softly.

She frowned at him sleepily, "Severus?" She asked. Her brow was furrowed in worry.

"Severus is safe, Hermione," The headmaster lied smoothly, tucking the blanket beneath her chin, "Sleep now."

Her face relaxed into amazing peace and she settled back against the sofa and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

Dumbledore stood watching over her a few moments longer his thoughts centered on his missing Potions master and the former student who so obviously loved him. His old heart clenched painfully. _Come home soon my boy, she needs you here,_ he thought.

Hermione woke to a wicked headache and sore throat that she could only associate with sobbing herself to sleep many hours earlier. She stared confusedly around the room a moment unable to recall making it to the sofa. She shrugged it off and rolled to her feet. She had been so close to a breakthrough last night, she could practically taste the sweet honey of progress. She rubbed her sleep filled eyes and attempted to shake the sleepy cobwebs that clouded her thinking and slowed her movements.

She was still trying to force her body into alertness when she heard it, the urgent tap tapping of an owl against the oak door. She opened the door and allowed the non-descript owl to enter the lab. She was a little puzzled as to why a post owl had sought her out in the dungeons but didn't think too much of it as she removed the letter and dropped a knut into the sack tied about the bird's foot. With a soft hoot the bird flew from the room leaving Hermione alone again. She looked down at the letter she held and felt her heart leap in her chest, the spiky handwriting was one she would recognize anywhere, she tore the seal open and eagerly read the brief note.

_Miss Granger,_

_So far the trip has been very successful. I had a lovely visit with the Malfoy family at their summer home and have been invited to stop by the mansion at my earliest convenience. Apparently there is a former student visiting who is dying to see me again. I hope the research is continuing well in my absence. I haven't a steady place to stay at the moment so don't bother replying. I shall hope to see you soon._

_Yours,_

_Prof S. Snape_

She read it twice through before the meaning sunk in, and then there was nothing to do but abandon her project and run for the Great Hall. She needed to see Dumbledore.

Severus eyed his reflection in the mirror and nodded approvingly. It was a nice bit of spell work if he did say so. His hair now hung all the way to his shoulders and shimmered gold in the candlelight. His eyes were a pale Malfoy grey and he had shrunk his oversized nose to a fine, straight nose more fitted to his face. His teeth he had also fixed. They were now straight and white.

He fought against a pang of revulsion. He looked nothing like himself. He looked like a Malfoy. Which was rather the point of the whole transformation, but it was disconcerting. Hopefully it would throw Potter off the track long enough for him to gain some useful intelligence for the Order. With one final look in the mirror, Severus apparated to Arundel.

The Malfoys had lived in Arundel Castle for centuries. Or so Lucius had always bragged to whoever would listen. Severus secretly suspected that the family had been servants in the Howard household. But it didn't really matter. What did matter was that Harry Potter had taken over the beloved castle. And it was practically impenetrable. The Muggles didn't seem to have noticed, they never did, but Severus could feel the pull of dark magic as soon as he appeared in the small field he had chosen as his apparition point.

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A/N: Arundel Castle is the historic home of the Duke of Norfolk. This position was held by a member of the Howard family from 1483 to present times. I figured a snobbish family like the Malfoys would want to connect themselves with this type of prestige in any way possible. Besides, if you've ever seen Arundel Castle... it's an impressive combination of beauty and strength. Also for the purposes of this story we are going to forget the fact that tourists are able to tour the public rooms of great houses like this.


	6. Part V You Cannot Go It Alone

_PART V – You Cannot Go It Alone_

Hermione slipped quietly through the double doors of the Great Hall, cringing slightly at the squeak that turned all heads at the Head Table towards her. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled warmly; the rest of the staff looked a little shocked to see her there. Belatedly Hermione realized that she hadn't bothered to brush her hair or teeth in the days since she had last come to the Hall for a meal. Not that it mattered when Severus was in danger, but she must look frightful.

She walked right past her customary seat at the end of the table, between the new Defense teacher and Hagrid. This drew a few more puzzled looks from a staff that was used to seeing her as their obedient pet-student/apprentice. Ignoring the rest of the Professors Hermione zeroed in on Dumbledore's ornate chair. "We need to talk." '_Ten seconds ago,'_ she added in her mind.

If Albus was surprised he didn't show it. He simply twinkled a little more brilliantly than usual and conjured a chair for Hermione on his right. "Please, Miss Granger, have something to eat. We'll go to my office once you've had your upper." There was note of steel in his voice she couldn't argue with.

With a defeated sigh Hermione plopped unceremoniously into the proffered seat and gobbled down the contents of her plate with a speed Ron would have envied. When she was finished she had to clench her hands into a tight knot in her lap to keep from grabbing the Headmaster by his shoulders and marching him from the room. She cleared her throat pointedly as he reached for another treacle tart earning a warning look. She lowered her eyes to her plate and scowled it. If he was going to treat her like a child she would be damned if she wasn't going to fulfill the roll.

Finally, after what seemed like an age of sitting and scowling, Dumbledore stood and bid his farewells to the rest of the assembly. Hermione was out of her chair like a shot, without so much as a thought to the rest of the staff she dogged the Headmaster's steps to his office.

The very second that the gargoyle closed behind them and the spiral stair began to ascend Hermione let loose the tirade she had been composing at the dinner table. "Now I get it. I always wondered how so many people could die before the battle was even fought. Why we didn't know Voldemort was coming until we could see him from our towers. It was you! You who can't even be bothered to miss dinner to hear that your spy is in danger! Is a man who trusts you with his life less important to you than getting a third treacle tart? Does Severus really mean that little to you?" by the end Hermione had tears streaming down her face; hot angry tears that burnt her eyes and left her usually smooth cheeks blotchy and red.

Dumbledore's blue eyes regarded her with endless sadness. It was as the sorrows of the world were held in those deep blue depths. The tears turned remorseful and cold. She stifled a sob.

"I do care about Severus, Miss Granger. But you must remember that most of the staff is completely ignorant to the presence we are preparing to fight." He pointed to a chintz armchair, she sat. "This evil is terrible and destructive. We all know it needs to be stopped. But the fear that evil brings with it is much worse. I will not bring that fear into this school until absolutely necessary. The last time I left a meal early was when Voldemort was at the height of his powers." Dumbledore seated himself across from her and pierced her with his gaze. "I can not, will not, cause the Professors of this school – the very bones of Hogwarts – to fear."

Hermione sniffed and wiped the soggy mess that was her face on the sleeve of her robe. "I understand sir, I'm sorry." She said softly, placing a hand lightly on his arm in an attempt to convey the depths of her regret. "It's just that Severus doesn't have anyone to fight for him. He's alone battling against evil again despite having vanquished it twice already. It isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair, Miss Granger. We do what we can and what we must to get by."

"You're not going to send anyone to help him are you?" She asked, knowing in her heart that she was right.

Albus sighed heavily. "I cannot. Severus is very good at this game, Hermione, don't worry."

"This _game_?" Hermione asked. Anger was building again like floodwaters behind her eyes. "Severus is not some pawn to be disposed of as you see fit." She stood and began to pace about the office in an agitated manner. "You know that Harry blames him for everything. If he so much as sees Severus..." she pressed a hand to her forehead unwilling to finish the awful thought.

"Hermione..."

"If you tell me that his sacrifice is for the greater good I will hex you seven ways to Sunday. I don't care if you're the most powerful wizard since Merlin himself." She hissed, glowering at him. "Severus has suffered enough. If you won't go after him I will."

"Miss Granger, you can't..."

"No. I can. I may not be able to see colors anymore but I can still cast a hex better than anyone from my year, Harry included, and no one is going to get in my way."

"You can't just wander around Europe looking for him. You'll alert every dark wizard of his presence and practically sign his death sentence." Albus protested.

Hermione moved to the door. Pausing only to say, "Good thing I know where he is then isn't it? Goodnight Headmaster."

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Severus slammed the door to his room at the Rosewood Inn. Three days and still he had no idea how to get into Potter's fortress. The wards on the exterior walls were the most advanced he had ever seen and it would take days for an experienced curse breaker to get through them. Severus was not a curse breaker. Charms had never been his strong suite. Too single minded and pedestrian to hold the attention of the arrogant youth he had been for his time at Hogwarts. Voldemort hadn't worked to improve any of the skills his followers lacked, either. He had wanted trained killing machines who were easy to control. Advanced charms would have lead to ideas. Ideas were dangerous. So he was stuck.

He had only two options now and neither ended well for him. Option A, he could pretend to be a potential recruit and hope he got far enough in the process to gain access to the castle. Or, option B, he could enter as a prisoner. The second was the easiest, but also the most dangerous, Potter blamed him personally for the deaths of his parents and his godfather. It wasn't likely he would survive more than a few minutes in captivity. He sighed heavily and collapsed on his bed.

Option A it would be.

He would have to shore up his glamour. If it was detected he would be switched to option B faster than he could curse his own inadequacy. He had seen a Muggle Chemist down the street from the Inn and made a mental note to visit it tomorrow to see if they had hair dye and perhaps some of the tanning chemical he had seen his students using. There were permanent spells to change his teeth. He would miss the slightly jagged feel of their current position, but if it was a matter of being alive and being ashamed of his teeth he would take it. He had vague recollections of a potion that changed ones eye color for extended periods of time. Perhaps if he owled Hermione...

He paused.

No. Owling Hermione was not an option. For her safety and his she needed to stay in the dark about where he was and what kind of danger he faced. He had been furious with himself after the last message he had sent. But Dumbledore would keep her from doing anything stupid. Hermione was much too valuable to be used as a pawn in this little game. He was used to being manipulated and used to benefit the greater good; Hermione wouldn't understand what it was like. He had to trust that Dumbledore would find a way to convince her that she was best able to help him by staying safely at Hogwarts.

He briefly entertained the idea of sending another owl to direct her to a place far, far away from Arundel. But it was too risky. He had high hopes that Dumbledore would send a few Order members now that they knew Potter's location, and he would need all the help he could get.

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The next morning, Severus (now Phineas Malfoy, estranged second cousin of Lucius Malfoy), made his way through the town to the Castle's gates. He adopted the confident swagger of a Malfoy, complete with occasional hair tossing. Using Occlumency he projected images of family gatherings at Malfoy manner; Lucius greeting him with a handshake and a glass of brandy, Narcissa gracing him with a cold smile or a peck on the cheek and a much younger Draco sitting on his lap, talking a mile a minutes about his latest escapade. The kinds of memories that he knew a Legilimens would expect to find in the mind of a relative coming for a visit.

In the night he had decided that since Potter was not actively recruiting to his cause it would be better to appear to be there on accident. Then, if an opportunity was presented, he would play the part of an eager sycophant and hope to be accepted into the fold.

He made it past the gatekeeper, who simply gave him a bored look before returning to the magazine he had been perusing. This was encouraging. Perhaps some of the Malfoys were still hanging about Potters coattails. It would make life easier if the lower minions thought he belonged. Of course it would seem odd if his supposed kinsmen knew nothing about him.

He took a deep steadying breath; too late to turn back now.

A/N: I wanted to explain my Dumbledore a bit. I am trying to keep him real to what I see in Cannon (pre his death obviously) which is a man who gets so wrapped up in trying to further the greater good that he loses sight of people All good intentions, but not always the best actions to go along with them.

Also...Thank you so much to those who reviewed so quickly on my last post! You guys make this so much fun to write!


	7. Part VI The One Who Causes the Darkness

_A/N: I know I'm being really turbo with the updates right now. I'm going to try and finish this story at a reasonable pace. But my muse is a fickle creatur so all I can promise is that I have part VII completed and a few hundred words written of part VIII. Enjoy!_

_PART VI The One Who Causes the Darkness_

Harry Potter put down his magazine and stared after the tall blonde man who had walked into this place of sanctuary like he owned it. He narrowed his, currently brown, eyes and brushed a stray lock of curly brown hair from his eyes. Pride in himself, his identity and poweress, had been Voldemort's downfall. Harry had no such weaknesses. He had a potions master employed nearly full time stocking glamour and polyjuice potions to allow his Lord to slip into whichever identity he chose at a moments notice. Today Harry was posing as his own gatekeeper. What better way to learn which of the many passers by were harmless Muggles and which were a more immediate concern?

The blonde man was a concern.

There were anti Muggle charms everywhere on the Castle. Not a single Muggle had attempted to pass the perimeter in more than a month. Obviously the man was not Muggle. He also was not one of the carefully selected recruits that had been slowly filtering in from all over Europe. But more worrisome than either of those, he was not the Malfoy he was pretending to be.

Lucius had been a detailed historian and Harry knew, from the many volumes containing details of the Malfoy lineage, that Lucius and Narcissa were the only remaining Malfoys in Europe. And if this man was not from Europe what was he doing in England? There was only one conclusion, the man was an imposter. And there was only one thing to be done with him. With a squish and flick of his wand Harry closed the heavy gates of Arundel Castle.

The ominous boom echoed through the courtyard covering up the satisfied chuckle floating softly the gatehouse.

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Hermione secured her second wand to her ankle holster and pulled her trousers down; checking carefully to make sure the wand was invisible beneath the light weight cloth. She had acquired the backup wand a month before the final battle with Voldemort, a recommendation of Alastor Moody's. Constant vigilance meant being a step, or ten, ahead of your foe. Which was impossible without a spare wand, or so the wizened old Auror had told them. The tactic hadn't helped Ron or her in the final battle but the theory seemed sound, so she continued to pack the extra weapon against her ankle.

She pulled a navy blue jumper over her black tee shirt and slid her favorite black velvet robes on to complete her outfit. Too many action movies made her eager to dress in dark colors, but she did her best to restrain the notion. Dressing in any way that attracted attention would be dangerous. She pulled her impossibly curly hair into a pair of tight braids and applied a generous dose of hair gel to keep it in place.

Once her preparations were complete Hermione placed a white envelope in the middle of her desk and disappeared into the deserted corridor.

She made her way through the maze of Hogwarts dungeons using Lumos as little as possible. The nearest apparition point was at the front gates. But the gates would be closed; she would have to make her way through the Forbidden Forest and apparate from its far side. She shivered. She hadn't been with Harry and Ron when they had ventured into Aragog's territory in their second year, but she'd had her fair share of nightmares about Acromantula afterwards. Perhaps she could talk Hagrid into helping her.

She dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come. Hagrid didn't know about the danger Severus was in, and she didn't want to be the one to tell him, especially not after her earlier discussion with Dumbledore.

Once outside the castle Hermione cast a low level shield charm around her body and disillusioned herself. She felt much safer once her body faded into its surroundings. Hopefully the precautions would allow her to slip unnoticed through the forest. Thankfully it was a half moon tonight so she wouldn't have to worry about Werewolves.

The forest was so dark she could barely make out the ground in front of her as she picked her way through the trees. Each rustle and crack of her feet on fallen leaves set her heart to hammering. She was certain that if dark creatures could sense fear everything in the forest knew exactly where she was by now. After what felt like days of walking she saw a shaft of moonlight filtering through the tree trunks. She picked up her pace.

She had made it! Pausing only long enough to center her mind for apparition she stepped forward into the clearing, turned on her heel and disappeared with a faint pop.

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Severus flinched at the loud, echoing slam of the gates. His best escape option was now gone. And, still worse, he didn't have a plan B. There was an alcove to his left and he quickly took refuge in it. A disillusionment charm allowed him to nearly disappear against the grey stone alls. _Think!_ He commanded his brain. He needed a plan, and quickly.

In the four days he had been in Arundel he had never seen the Castle Gates shut. This meant that something had changed, if there was one thing his years as a spy had taught him it was that any change was bad. Had he been identified? No, that wasn't possible. He looked nothing like himself. He had managed to get the trademark blonde hair in a bottle, as well as a suntan and straight white teeth. Not to mention the fact that his once disproportionately large nose had once again been charmed into a slightly larger version of Lucius' straight one.

So, if they hadn't recognized him for his own identity, what had caused the change? He stood perfectly still, unconsciously keeping his breathing shallow and even so it made no sound in the empty foyer. He knew his scattered thoughts were screaming silently out into the space around him and that even the least skilled Legilimens could detect his presence with next to no effort. He also knew that Potter had developed a considerable skill in both Legilimency and Occlumency. Severus began to gather the wayward thoughts together and lock them into the proper place in his mind. It was not as easy as it used to be; he was out of practice from the year of peace. Once the stray thoughts were locked way in his mind he fumbled to form a plan.

The echoing tap-tap of footsteps on the marble floors caused his heart rate to triple. He forced himself to think about the wall at his back and nothing else. Keeping his mind as blank as the stones digging into his shoulders and his breathing shallow and silent he allowed his eyes to scan the section of the room he could see. He reached out with his mind, gently at first, trying to get a sense of the person walking steadily towards him. It was a man, and he was searching for something. From the sound of the step his intruder was alone and in no hurry. For reasons he didn't want to name, these two facts terrified him more than the thought of an entire army coming after him.

The footsteps were close now. Closer... Less than five meters... Practically upon him... And then he saw him. It was Potter. Had to be. No other living creature had that unruly black hair. Potter was wearing a mask. A Silver mask that covered the upper half of his face. The mask distorted his nose and forehead and made him look like a grotesque and horrifying bird of prey.

The masked face turned and emerald eyes bored into Severus' beetle black ones. Severus could feel Potter's magic puling at the safeguards that kept Severus' mind protected. Feather light touches against the sealed vaults that housed the Potion Master's thoughts. Severus knew he had to let loose some of his thoughts. He needed Potter to think him weak. He opened his mind strategically letting out memories tainted with fear. Memories of his childhood, of his rise in the Dark Lord's favor and of the final battle.

"Hello Snape." The boy's voice was completely expressionless, nearly robotic.

Severus knew the exact moment when his disillusionment charm failed. He could see it in the triumphant glitter in his adversary's eyes. He gave Potter a bland unconcerned look. "Potter. You look well." He said coolly, a brief twitch of his left eyebrow the only hint of sarcasm.

"Crucio." Potter drawled carelessly, flicking his wand in Severus' direction.

The curse was stronger than anything Voldemort had ever thrown at him. Stronger and less controlled. Severus' bones screamed in agony, his muscles convulsed and the world grew small and dim through burning eyes. His tendons felt as though they would snap from his bones, his blood was boiling and then it was over. Blissful nothingness surrounded him as he sank gratefully into warm black oblivion.

Potter smirked to himself. "Not so strong after all then." He said. He circled his former professor's prone form, delivering a swift kick to Severus' ribs before turning and walking off down the corridor. He would send a lackey to move the man to the dungeons.

Finally, entertainment.

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Hermione had never seen Arundel Castle before. Her parents were, for the most part, too busy with their dental practice to do too much traveling. And most of her summers had been spent simply enjoying Muggle luxuries like TV and microwave popcorn. Despite the unpleasant circumstances surrounding her arrival in Arundel she couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful fortress and the picturesque village that lay under its watchful presence.

She knew without a doubt that this was where both Harry and Severus would be found. Evil was palpable in the air here. It made her stomach tight and set the tiny hairs all over her body on end. Her every instinct screamed at her to flee this place. Instead she wrapped her cloak more tightly about her shoulders and made her way slowly up to the village. The first Inn she saw was the Rosewood. It was a quaint little building complete with flower boxes on the windows. Having already decided that she would need to take a room somewhere Hermione quickly procured a small single and settled down for a few hours of much needed sleep. Surely that afternoon would be soon enough to begin her search.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. I am loving Evil!Harry even more than I thought I would so expect to see more of him in the next couple of chapters.


	8. Part VII Dying to Get Out

WARNING: there is SMUT in this chapter. It is not explicit but it is there.

_PART VII Dying to Get Out Might Be the Death of Me_

It didn't take long for Hermione to verify that Severus was no longer in Arundel. At least not the village. She had been making small talk with the front desk clerk when he mentioned that they'd had a man skip out on his bill just the night before. Immediately intrigued she pried the entire story out of him, including the description of a man who could only be Severus Snape. She felt discouraged that she had been unable to catch up with him before he entered the castle, but now she knew at least that she was in the right place.

All she had to do was convince Harry, or one of his followers that she would be an asset to the cause. Which shouldn't be too hard, she hoped anyhow. Without Severus she felt at a loss about where to go. Was Nocturne Alley too obvious?

In the end she decided that Nocturne would at least be a good place to start. If Severus had been successful in joining Harry's forces he would be safe for the moment. If not, she was already too late. But she wouldn't think about that. She couldn't.

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The pain awoke Severus. A dull, persistent throbbing at the base of his skull. A sharp ache in his ribs every time he tried to breathe. He groaned softly. His arms were shackled above his head, holding him onto his feet by tight bands about his wrists.

"Comfortable?" A familiar drawl asked from behind him.

"Extremely." He shot back. Unwilling to admit the slightest defeat.

Draco Malfoy appeared at the corner of his vision. His blonde hair was cut short and formed sharp little spikes atop his head. Otherwise he looked exactly as Severus remembered him, except for being alive. He distinctly remembered Hermione's description of the Malfoy boy's fate on the battle field.

"Impersonating the departed now Potter?" He asked in a bored tone.

Draco's mouth opened in an inhuman chuckle. "You knew then did you? Lucius doesn't." Here he laughed. The sound reverberated off the stone walls of Severus' cell.

Severus wanted to vomit. Voldemort had been inhuman in his physical appearance but still maintained enough humanity in his mannerisms to keep his minions comfortable. Potter still looked fully human but his voice and demeanor were everything Voldemort had lacked. He was perfectly detached and emotionless, completely calm in every situation.

It seemed the boy was in the mood for a chat. Perhaps if he kept at it long enough Potter would slip up. "A disguise Potter? I would have thought you would be too proud of what you've accomplished to want to hide from it. Really I'm rather disappointed in you, all that famed Gryffindor bravery and you can't even face your enemies head on like Voldemort did." Severus shook his head sadly and clicked his tongue in dissapproval, "It's not too late to turn back you know. You haven't really done anything yet. Well you killed one of your allies but, we're over that now, I'm sure Dumbledore could find you a position. I heard a rumor Filch is retiring."

Harry narrowed Draco's silver eyes. "Voldemort was a weak, simpering fool." He hissed. "I am nothing like him."

Severus snorted. "Right. Because Voldemort would never run to a Malfoy for help. Let alone pretend to be one."

The Polyjuice was wearing off. Draco's silver hair grew and darkened to the familiar Potter black and the grey eyes turned a poisonous green. Poisonous green and sparkling with recklessness that could not be to Severus' advantage. "You like pain don't you?" Potter asked in a conversational tone.

"Love it." Severus snapped back the challenge. He knew it was stupid to bait the boy, but he needed to see if he could break through the cool exterior. It was his only chance.

"Crucio."

The familiar sensation of crucio wracked his body until he could no longer hold up his own weight. His legs gave out and he heard his shoulders dislocate with simultaneous pops. He let out a scream of anguish and the curse was lifted. He struggled to get his feet under him. Failed twice and gave up.

Harry twirled the wand in his fingers: Willow with Unicorn Hair, 18 inches. "Not so nasty now are we Professor?" He said the title as if it were a bad taste in his mouth. "No one to save your pathetic life. Not that that should surprise you since no one will care that you're gone. Unlike Voldemort I know your true colors and they're as despicably yellow now as they were years ago when you were verbally abusing me in your classrooms. You disgust me. But luckily for you old Albus is a fool and will probably concoct some hair-brained scheme that will get you and several others killed and provide me with priceless enjoyment, so I'll let you live... for the moment."

Severus glowered fiercely at the boy. "You're no stronger or smarter than Voldemort Harry in fact the only reason you even had the power to defeat him is because he allowed it. You probably couldn't hurt a fly with just your own powers."

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously, "Don't tempt me Snivelus."

Severus wrinkled his nose in distaste at the old nickname. "Ooh creative Potty, you come up with that one all by yourself?" Severus wasn't sure why he had a death wish, but it seemed he did. It was just too irresistible to taunt this boy who was so tragically misguided. Perhaps, he thought with a rueful grin, he was more afraid of what Hermione would say to him when she found him here (he had no doubt now that she would come), than he was of Potter's powers.

She was such an amazing woman. So strong against the life she had been handed. He shook his head. Maudlin thoughts would not help. His best chance for survival, or at least to promote Hermione's survival, was to keep Potter off balance.

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Hermione had never actually been in Nocturne Alley. It wasn't nearly as creepy as Harry had indicated in their second year. Yes there were some interesting characters, but Hermione knew more about jinxes and curses than the majority of witches so they didn't intimidate her. She had acquired a couple sets of new robes at Madame Malkin's and a room at the Leaky Cauldron. She was wearing a set of brand new robes at the moment. They were more fitted than her standard robes, designed to accentuate her figure and attract male attention.

She had decided the best way to subtly draw attention to herself was by changing her look. She had coughed up the galleons and allowed a hairdresser to fix her mane. It was now shoulder length, straight and heavily peppered with highlights. She thought it made her look like a bimbo. Especially when combined with a fake tan and a glamour charm that was heavy on the eyeliner. The hairdresser said she was a knockout. For Severus' sake she hoped the woman was right.

There was only one empty seat at the bar and Hermione quickly took it. She ordered a double vodka form the bartender and sat back to observe her surroundings.

"Lookin' for someone luv?" A gravely male voice asked from behind her.

"No one particular," she replied with a hint of a suggestive smile.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, leaning close enough for her to smell his breath. Thankfully it didn't yet reek of booze.

Hermione gave a one shoulder shrug, the kind she had always teased Ginny about. "Suite yourself."

"Shove off will ya?" The man said to the older man sitting next to Hermione. "Can't ya see I'm tryin' to get the lady a drink?"

The man moved with a muttered curse and a sharp glare at Hermione's new friend.

"Sorry 'bout that." He made himself comfortable and flagged the bartender. "You got a name?" he asked after they had been served.

"Jane," Hermione said, quickly switching to her middle name. "You?"

"Yaxley. Edgar Yaxley." He replied proudly, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

She took it and shook it once firmly. "Cheers."

They clinked glasses and she downed hers in single gulp.

Over the next hour Hermione learned that Edgar was the son of former Death Eater, Waldon Yaxley, and damn proud of it. He had heard there were stirrings in the old crowd and was quite eager to get back to his wayward path as soon as a suitable position opened up. She could barely believe her luck. So when he asked her back to his rooms it was almost hard to say no. Instead she said she had to get back to her slave driver at Hogwarts and that she would see him around. She did let him push her up against the back wall of the pub, feel her up and stick his tongue down her throat, but then she twisted away and disappeared into the night.

The next night she wore a revealing black robe that showed more cleavage than she thought she had and waited for Edgar at the bar. He arrived not long after she did and made a beeline for the empty stool beside her. "Lookin' good tonight luv." He said, placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She laughed. "Well you mentioned introducing me to some of the old crowd, I didn't want to disappoint." She replied with a smug smile.

He tore his eyes from her neckline for a moment to study her face. "Do you think you're ready?"

She tilted her head back for a moment and pursed her lips in fake concentration. "What do you think?"

"I think you look ravishing." He said to her cleavage, "Maybe I don't want to share."

Hermione swallowed the worry that welled up in her mind. "Maybe that's my choice." She had known she was taking this very risk when she first dawned her disguise, but she had hoped have a more dominant role. She wan't comfortable with the way he was sizing her up, if he decided to have sex with hrr there was likely nothing she could do about it short of hexing him, which would only destroy any progress she had made. She was completely powerless. It was his game or no game now.

He raised an eyebrow. "You think so do you?"

She was shocked at how quickly his tone had turned dangerous. "Maybe I want to reward you for good behavior." She said suggestively, letting a hand fall from her hair, down the side of her face, and across the top of her neckline. She watched him swallow convulsively as he watched her hand move.

"What would ya call _good_ behavior?"

"Take me with you when you meet the new Dark Lord. Give me a chance at a real life." She locked her eyes with him. "Wizards oath." she said boldly.

"Done." He said, crashing his mouth against hers in a hungry kiss. His wrapped one hand possessively around her shoulder, holding her close to him. The other he slipped inside the plunging neckline of her dress.

Hermione did what she had learned to do so effectively in the months following the battle. She separated herself from reality. Her consciousness floated somewhere near the stars as her body was lead from the bar, pressed against the unforgiving stones, kissed thoroughly and eventually pressed back onto a lumpy hotel bed and ravished by the man who was the means to Severus' salvation.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I generally hate OC's but I needed Edgar so I hope you can embrace him and his slutty slutty ways. Please review :D


	9. Part VIII A Million Tears Ago

_Part VIII A Million Tears Ago_

Hermione, like most girls, had imagined her first time. She's imagined the silky sheets, softly glowing candles and declarations of undying love. What she certainly hadn't counted on was being pushed up against a rough store wall, dragged (half dressed) through a dark alleyway and finally taken roughly by a man she barely knew. She had known it was supposed to hurt. Known in the same way that you know that the sky is blue and water is wet. It was ingrained in her brain, but she didn't think about it. She didn't expect the small pool of blood that she found on the sheets when she awoke to an empty room the next morning. She definitely didn't expect to feel the sharp knife of regret or the hollow aching emptiness in her heart.

She brushed away her thoughts and pulled her body from the bed. She was a little achy but she knew that a cup of tea and some Pepper-Up would have her back to normal in moments. She looked about the room for any sign of where Edgar had gone off to. There was a not on the table by the door. She picked it up, looked it over and shoved it in the front pocket of her robes.

Mission accomplished.

This time tomorrow, unless something dreadful happened, she would be face to face with Harry Potter.

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As was quickly becoming routine Severus was woken by pain. This morning it was in his shoulders. Potter had left him hanging from his dislocated shoulders after an extended round of crucio. The muscles were stretched to the tearing point. He fumbled to get his feet beneath him, every movement eliciting a hiss as pain burnt a fiery trail down his torso. Finally, just as he was about to give up completely, his feet found their purchase and he stood. The pressure on his shoulders lessened and he dew a deep, agonizing breath. He continued to breathe as deeply as his bruised ribs and swollen shoulders would allow, while his mind considered his options.

He didn't have many. That much was clear by the fact that Potter hadn't moved him from his cell or come to torment him in at least a day. He sent a brief prayer upwards that Hermione was alright. It would have been better if he had been able to think Dumbledore would have any sway with the girl. But Severus knew that if Hermione suspected he was in danger she would need to prove her scarlet and gold Gryffindor courage all over again. She couldn't help it. That was just how she was.

Severus had always hated Gryffindor heroics, but never so much as in those dark hours or solitude. He hoped she had learned something of subtlety in the months spent in his company. Gryffindor were perfect cannon fodder, great distractions and wonderful pawns but they were next to useless as the head of any plan. _Just don't' let her do anything too stupid,_ he plead silently.

"Snivelus."

Severus took one final deep breath and schooled his face into an expression of boredom. "Potty." He said flatly. "Come for another bout of petty revenge?" He clucked his tongue in the disapproving noise that had so successfully enraged the boy the day before. "What would your daddy think of you now?"

A sharp wave of pain engulfed him for several moments. When Potter lifted the curse Severus was once again hanging by his torn and swollen shoulders. "Don't try my limited patience Snape." Harry said, his voice laced with irritation. "The only reason you're not dead yet is because I have decided to have some fun with you before I dispose of you. If you cease to amuse me I will not hesitate to torture you until you have no life left."

A cold finger of fear pressed against Severus' heart. The boy was further gone than he had initially thought. For the first time since his capture Severus realized that he was never going to see the outside of this dungeon again. He would be damned if he didn't go down without a fight. "Torturing defenseless creatures suits you." He said conversationally, "Always were a bully, just like your father."

Again Harry's only retort was to apply the cruciatus curse again. Severus' back arched and his body fought against his restraints as pain raced through his veins. When it was over he defiantly began the process of gathering his feet under him once again.

"No creativity." He tried for a conversational tone but it came out as more of a gasp, "Typical for a Gryffindor."

Again the only retort was pain. This time Severus lost his battle with consciousness. When he woke, Potter was gone.

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"Whatever you do, don't talk to him unless he asks you a question," Edgar hissed at her, propelling her through the imposing front gates of Arundel Castle with one hand.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. He had been peppering her with these bits of advice the entire trip. Apparently he didn't think she knew how to be subservient. He was probably right but it was annoying none the less.

The gates slammed shut behind them and all talking ceased. A black robed man with a silver hawk mask stood at the castle entrance. Hermione knew instinctively it was Harry. She quickly cleared her mind of all Hermione-like thoughts; he had always shows an aptitude for Legilimency.

"Come," the brief command was so soft she almost thought she had imagined it. Edgar moved first and she trailed close behind.

"My Lord," he said, kneeling to kiss the hem of Harry's robes.

Harry stared at him with impassive green eyes.

The first of the two recruits kissed his hem. Harry curled a lip in distain. He hated the weakness this man portrayed. Deference was well and good but he would kick him in the face if he tried that action again. Harry knew the man. He had been expecting him, but the woman was a mystery. He would watch her closely.

"My Lord," the dark robed female bowed in greeting but did not kiss his hem.

"Rise," He commanded taking a few steps closer to his newest followers. He felt out with his mind, his thoughts probing into hers, gently feeling for cracks in her resolve or loyalty and finding none. He motioned for her to lead the way into the castle. There was something familiar about this new recruit. And with his background familiarity was a dangerous luxury, one that had his spine tingling with apprehension as he walked down the corridor after her.

Unlike Voldemort before him Harry Potter had no illusions of immortality. His followers were never in possession of their wands in his presence nor would he ever turn his back to them. Even the most loyal follower could be seduced by the other side. Albus Dumbledore was a formidable opponent, he knew this well. Fortunately the Dumbledore had a weakness, he was too forgiving. All Harry needed was one follower who could "repent" to Dumbledore and he would win this century old battle. This new recruit looked to be the perfect candidate, so long as she could prove loyal.

The woman kept her head bowed slightly, the hood on her cloak shielding her features from view. If her face had been visible any passer by would have been able to see the tears sparkling in her deep brown eyes.

The trio continued down a long corridor until they reached a grand hall. Hermione stopped there and waited for instructions about what to do next. Her heart was slamming against her chest so loudly she was sure that Edgar and Harry both could hear it. When Harry moved to stand before them she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Oh how she wanted to throw her arms around him as if that would make everything ok. Instead she kept her eyes averted and her head down as Harry grilled Edgar.

After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the cold marble floors and pretending to be indifferent or in awe of the man before her Harry turned his attention to her.

"What is your name?"

"Jane Bunn," she answered quickly using her middle name and her mother's maiden name. The closer she stayed to the truth the longer she could maintain it.

"Why are you here?" He asked. She could feel him reaching out with his mind to probe hers.

She spun out images of anger, hatred and loyalty to his cause. "I want what you have to offer. Power. Knowledge. Revenge." Her voice came out bitter and sharp.

Harry seemed satisfied for the moment. He dismissed them with a brief nod of his head. Hermione follow Edgar down another winding corridor to the part of the castle where they would spend the night.

Hermione knew that she would have to find Severus that night. She couldn't keep up this charade around Harry. The hurt was too close to the surface to be properly concealed. She was sharing a room with Edgar, which would make things more difficult, but she was fairly sure that she could lull him into either a sense of security or exhaust him so thoroughly he would sleep until dawn.

Severus' life might depend on it.

The second option turned out as her best choice and so Hermione allowed Edgar to have his way with her until he fell into a slumber so deep that she could not wake him no matter how much she shook him. She slipped on her black robes and slipped into the corridor. She disillusioned herself and crept silently towards a staircase she had noticed earlier. Most likely there were dungeons and that would be where Severus was being kept.

She made it down three flights of stairs without a moments worry. It seemed the rest of the castle was asleep. If she had been Slytherin she might have been suspicious, but she was Gryffindor and an optomist so it didnt cross her mind. One more flight and she was in the dungeons. The air was damp and cold. The horrible stench of feces and mold seemed to radiate from the very walls. She heard voices down the tunnel and followed them.

"It's not all you thought it would be is it?"

The familiar tenor was music to her ears. Severus was alive. But who was he talking to? She hastened her strides, eager to find him and get out of there before things could get worse. She was in such a hurry she didn't notice the single stair that separated one section of floor from another until she caught her toe and tumbled loudly to the ground.

The voices stopped. She heard the thumping of feet walking to where she lay.

"Well, well, well," the voice sent shivers up and down her spine, "if it isn't Hermione Granger. And I thought you were dead."

A/N: Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last couple chapters. You managed to spur my muse back into motion. I hope you liked this chapter. I will do my best to get the next up by next Sunday, but no guarantees as life likes to throw wrenches in my plans :D PLEASE REVIEW it makes this so much more fun!


	10. PART IX: Hostage to My Own Humanity

PART IX: Hostage to My Own Humanity

Harry had stupefied Hermione and levitated into Severus' cell. Now he stood before them, twirling his wand between his fingers, a humorless grin on his face. He turned his eyes to Hermione's prone form. "I should have known it would be you. You always were a slut weren't you? Throwing yourself at who ever would have you. Ugly blokes all of them; though I must say Snivelus here definitely beats Krum in the competition for biggest nose and greasiest hair. Tell me 'friend'," he spat the word at her, "How many years have you been shagging our dear professor? Eight years? Nine? I knew a silly little mudblooded tramp like you couldn't have actually come top in all our classes. Is that why you dropped divination? Trelawney wouldn't have you?"

Hermione's heart felt as though it would break right then and there spilling her life out over the dungeon floor. The pain in chest was so intense she could barely breathe. How had her sweet, noble best friend become this monster? Had she done this to him? "Oh Harry." She said softly, her voice breaking. She cried then, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Bravo Potty." Severus drawled bringing Harry's attention away from Hermione's tear streaked face. "Still lacking the creativity of your betters but you did manage to make her cry. Can you taste power?" His tone was mocking and he could tell by the slight tick at the corner of Potters left eye that the boy was getting angry.

"You know nothing of my power, Snape. I could crush you both without so much as lifting a finger. Remember that."

Severus forced himself to laugh despite the nauseous feeling of panic that was spreading through his gut. He believed that Potter might be able to live up to this threat.

Potter gave a lazy flick of his wand and Severus' chains pulled up into the ceiling until his feet could not possibly touch the floor.

A cry of shock and pain wrenched itself from Severus' lips. His shoulders were so swollen now he barely had control of his arm function, and now they were supporting his entire body weight.

"Crucio," Harry said pointing his wand at the now dangling professor.

Severus convulsed as the waves of pain rippled over his body. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep from screaming and a stream of blood poured down his chin.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut against the sight. She couldn't bear to see him in such pain. "Stop it!" she cried out. It was probably hopeless but the Gryffindor in her needed to try.

Without lifting the curse Harry turned to look at his other captive. "So it's more than just sex?" He smirked, "It must be, as I can't imagine the sex is very good." He turned his gaze on Severus for a moment. "It certainly won't be any good when I'm through with our precious professor, unless you've developed a penchant for the insane and the dead."

Hermione swallowed the vomit that welled up in her throat. "You'll never win Harry," she said softly. "Even if you kill us, they know where you are and the Aurors will come. You can't win this one."

With a predatory smile Harry dropped the curse from Severus and strode across the room until he was inches from Hermione's head. "That is where you are wrong. Voldemort was beaten because he made mistakes. I don't make mistakes. I don't trust blood traitors. I don't flaunt my existence before I am ready. Nothing that happens in this castle escapes my notice. Do you really think an Auror attack would catch me off guard? I AM an Auror Hermione. I taught them. I trained them. Nothing can stop me." His voice was cold and sure.

Despair fell over Hermione. This was not Harry. This was an aberration, something barely human. She dropped her eyes in defeat. 'Round one goes to Harry Potter' she thought bitterly.

After several minutes that felt like hours Harry released Severus' chains and left the two of them alone in the cell. Severus lay where he landed in too much pain to move and Hermione curled into a fetal position, sobs wracking her entire body.

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Severus did not know how long he lay there. He had landed on one of his shoulders and managed to roll onto his back before the pain took over his entire mind. Black clouded at the edges of his vision. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the fire that was burning in every muscle. He could hear Hermione's anguished cries but he couldn't get to her. He was only holding to consciousness by a thread.

'No more!' he commanded his mind. 'You are not in pain. You are alive and well.' Slowly he pushed the pain out of focus. At last he could think clearly. They needed a plan. He hadn't expected Harry to be so cold to Hermione. Honestly he had been hoping that the boy would react well to her familiar face. He couldn't recall a time when Harry Potter was not firmly under Hermione Granger's thumb. The cruel way Potter spoke to her was not a good omen.

Potter had studied the practices and weaknesses of his predecessor carefully. They had made him, called it preparation for the upcoming battle. Severus had always wondered if it was wise to expose the boy to so much darkness but he trusted Dumbledore's judgment. Obviously they had been wrong. Potter was right about the Aurors too. Two years as an Auror and Potter had them eating out of his hands. He had choreographed the entire final Battle. None of the existing Aurors would find it easy to outwit and eliminate their former colleague. Loyalty, after all, is not limited to Hufflepuffs.

There was nothing that he or Hermione could do from these dungeons. That much was obvious. He took a deep, painful breath and turned his head so that he could look at his surroundings. The fact that he was no longer shackled to the ceiling was a plus, but his shoulders were in such a terrible way that he did not think he could use his arms for much of anything. The door to their cell was heavily warded and the stone walls were at least a foot thick. Without a wand it was hopeless.

So how would they get a wand? He doubted that body checking Potter and stealing the brat's wand would get them very far. Perhaps Hermione had thought to bring a spare. His spare had been removed sometime between passing out in the entrance hall and waking up dangling from the ceiling. Hermione may not have been searched.

A tiny glimmer of hope gave Severus enough energy to stumble to his knees and crawl awkwardly over to Hermione's prone form. "Hermione?" he said softly.

She started at the sound of him so close. "Severus!" She made a move as if to fling her arms about him and then seemed to reconsider. "What did he do to you?" She asked, her huge eyes wet and bloodshot from crying.

"Nothing I haven't endured before," his tone was dismissive. "Do you have your spare wand?"

Hermione didn't say a word as she felt her ankle holster. She turned shining eyes to him and nodded. "No, Harry must have taken it." she said with a wink.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't doubt that there were many wards on the cell but he didn't think Potter had bothered to add one that would allow him to eavesdrop on its occupants. Though he was so elated that they had a wand he was willing to humor her. "Damn!" he swore convincingly. "What are the chances you can break down the wards and cell door with your bare hands?"

Biting her lip to keep from grinning, Hermione replied, "Worth a shot don't you think?" and rolled to her feet. Charms were her strongest subject but she had only a preliminary training in curse breaking. The type of training that came from books and lectures and no in the field experience. She took a deep steadying breath and felt out the wards with her mind. There were three. Two of them she had seen before and was fairly sure she could break them with a little luck and lot of concentration. The third was completely foreign to her. It was also the one they would have to break first in order to get through.

She turned to Severus, frustrated by her own lack of knowledge and with a series of gestures reminiscent of Charades conveyed to him that she could break the last two but the first was unknown to her.

Severus rolled his eyes. Gryffindors were not made for spying. Give him a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw any day. He beckoned her with one finger and she came to kneel beside him. "I cannot cast spells in my condition," he said softly, "but if you would be kind enough to help with the swelling in my shoulders I should be able to move enough to disassemble a few wards."

"Of course, I'm sorry Severus," Hermione said reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. "Dislocated?" she asked.

He nodded mutely. His lower lip clenched firmly between his teeth to stop from whimpering.

Nodding more to herself than him, Hermione reached for the wand still hidden beneath her robes. A simple spell would reduce the swelling enough for her to pop the shoulder backing joint, the pain would be terrible but unless the muscles were torn that should be enough to get them to Hogwarts and a proper Medi-Witch.

Footsteps faintly echoing in the hall outside stopped her movements. She quickly arranged her robes over her feet to hide her wand. She raised panic filled eyes to Severus' impassive face.

"It'll be alright, Hermione," he whispered. "Play along and everything will be alright."

She swallowed nervously. "Be careful."

He nodded, trying to reassure her with his eyes.

She moved her hand to cup his cheek and he placed a soft kiss on her fingers. "I love you, Severus."

Their world seemed to suspend for a moment as Severus tried to absorb her words. He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on he forehead. "My little lioness," he whispered affectionately.

Hermione wanted to cry. Instead she schooled her face into the bland expression learned from hours of watching Severus and moved to the far side of the cell. She didn't need to give Harry another weakness to exploit.

Severus resumed his former position prone on the floor as if unconscious. His mind was reeling but he managed to capture the stray thoughts and lock them away for later.

A moment later the footsteps stopped in front of their cell.

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A/N; I'm sorry this one is so late. Got caught with a wicked head cold combined with life has made getting off the couch to write a little difficult. I hope you enjoy it! Please drop me a little review to let me know!


	11. Part X: What it Takes to Set Me Free

Part X: What It Takes To Set Me Free

Lucius Malfoy prided himself on the long illustrious history of his family. The Malfoy family had acted as personal mages to the famous Howard family since the 1400's. This exalted position gave them untold, and regrettably untapped, power over the entire monarchy in the good old days when the Duke of Norfolk was practically king. Or at least that was the story propagated by every Malfoy for the last eight generations.

To be summarily removed from his ancestral home by an upstart Lord of Darkness who lacked the courtesy to even offer Lucius a spot in the gathering legion was an insult that the Malfoy Patriarch did not take to kindly. Which was why, on this beautiful October morning, he was standing outside the gates of Arundel Castle with a sour expression and a vague plan for vengeance.

The wards on the front gate were still the same ward erected six generations earlier by Augustus Malfoy. Unfortunate, as the wards were customized to the current Master of the House and designed to recognize any unwelcome intruder, even if that intruder was himself a Malfoy. Lucius was fairly sure that one of the many things Potter had forced him to do before vacating the premises was reset the wards to recognize Potter was their master. Damn Draco for being stupid enough to be caught by the bespectacled, Gryffindor miscreant. It was insulting beyond all things to be turned out of ones home because ones own son was too stupid to evade a Gryffindor. Next thing Narcissa would be confessing a love of chintz and then this really would be hell.

With a disgruntled sigh Lucius moved to a well concealed area along the East Wall and began to work at the Wards. Whoever said Slytherins didn't know the meaning of hard work had obviously never met a Slytherin who couldn't find a way around it. Dropping the wards was tricky business and Lucius was at it for hours. The really trick with these wards was to drop one set and a time and erect them again as quickly as possible. If he could shift the wards to recognize himself as well as Potter he should be able to have full access to his kingdom and the boy would be none the wiser.

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Hermione's heart was pounding to loudly she could barely hear the cell door as it screeched open, or the slow, deliberate footsteps echoing in the small room. An inhuman laugh sent a shiver of terror down her spine.

"Oh how the Mighty have fallen." Harry's voice was mocking. "Does it hurt Professor?" Severus made no sound and there was a loud thwack of dragon hide boot connecting with flesh. "What about now?"

Hermione winced. Still Severus remained silent. Hermione wished he would just give in. Scream just once. To let her know he was alive and perhaps to give Harry the satisfaction he seemed willing to beat out of his victim.

"Crucio."

Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly shut and willed herself away; far from the cold dungeon where she sat, powerless to stop the horrors happening in front of her. Slowly, fearfully, she raised her head and took in the dreadful scene. Harry, a wild look of exhilaration on his pale face, stood over Severus' prone form. The black clad man barely twitched as the cruciatus curse continued to course through his body. She couldn't take it for one second more. "Stop it!" she cried, vaulting to her feet. "Stop it Right NOW Harry Potter!" She screamed.

With terrifying steadiness Harry lowered his wand and turned his cold eyes to where Hermione stood. "Impatient for your turn?" he asked in a voice that was completely devoid of emotion. "Don't worry, Hermione, your turn will come. I have high hopes for you."

The way his eyes appraised her, cool and detached, left Hermione throat dry and constricted. She couldn't make a sound.

Harry smirked and, without taking his eyes off her face, flicked his wand sending the Cruciatus curse through the limp body at his feet once again. "Torture is an exquisite thing Hermione, amazing to know the delicate thread separating sanity from madness severed so easily by a mere flash or two of excruciating pain. It's beautiful enough to make a grown man cry." He smiled sweetly.

"You're despicable." Hermione spat.

"Hardly," Harry replied, dropping the curse and walking over to her. "Take a look at your darling Severus," He gestured vaguely towards where Severus lay. "He's a master of torture, not physical torture, but mental and emotional torment beyond anything anyone can imagine and he loves it."

He was so close now that she could smell the sandalwood and bergamot shampoo she had given him in seventh year, when he so desperately wanted to be noticed by a particularly saucy Ravenclaw witch that he was willing to take any help she could give. How had that boy become this monster before her? She hadn't seen it coming, none of them had. "What did we do to you?" she asked him brokenly.

Harry stopped abruptly and dilled her with flat, angry eyes, "You hid the truth. You, the Professors, the illustrious Albus Dumbledore all fools. All so completely wrong about where real power comes from. It's not some mystic amazing thing that you get by being a good little wizard. Power is there for the taking, and I took it."

Hermione stared at him, speechless and suddenly very afraid. They had to get out of here. Severus hadn't made a sound in what felt like hours and Hermione wasn't sure how much longer she could stay sane with Harry's beautiful eyes staring emptily at her out of the evilest face she had ever seen. His once boyish features seemed to contort into a look of pure evil more by the second. Her fingers itched to reach for the hidden wand at her ankle, but she would only get one chance and she couldn't kill her former best friend.

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"Well, well, well, if it isn't Lucy the spineless Slytherin."

The condescending voice brought Lucius to a halt. He recognized it, most likely a former Death Eater, but that knowledge gave him little comfort. The few remaining Death Eaters who had not been captured after the Battle were those who took only well calculated risks, the thinkers and plotters of the Ravenclaw variety. Not the minions he could cow with a withering look or well placed insult.

"Too high and lofty to chat with underlings are we?" The voice took form as Edgar Yaxley stepped from the shadows to block Lucius' path. "Pity, I'm in the mood for a chat."

"I don't waste my time on traitors. Why don't you go find a Gryffindor to bow to?" Lucius spat, attempting to slip around Edgar's bulky frame. The Yaxleys and the Malfoys hadn't associated since the unfortunate event involving Ignatius Malfoy, Henry Yaxley and a very unfortunate herd of sheep. Neither family discussed the matter; it was simply known that the two families would never co-exist peaceably.

Edgar laughed mirthlessly. "Only if you show me how Lucy, your family knows the art of bowing better than most." In a gesture too quick for Lucius to avoid the larger man grasped him firmly by the arm. "In fact, let me introduce you to your new master."

Lucius swore under his breath. This was bad. Potter had been very explicit that he wanted no part of Lucius and if the Malfoy Patriarch showed his face he would find no mercy. 'Well,' his inner Slytherin thought with a mildly triumphant thrill, 'at least I can take Yaxley down with me.' He dragged his feet, practically forcing Yaxley to carry him down three flights of stair to the subterranean dungeons. Malfoy had never used these in his years in the house; they were creepy, dank and impractical. He preferred the torture chambers on the first floor. Trust a Potter to choose the stereotypical, imposing, clammy and frankly disgusting dungeons built by Muggle who were now so past decomposed not even the worms were interested in them.

There was an unnatural chill in the dungeon air. A scream split the stillness and Lucius balked for a moment. "Yes Yaxley, I'm sure your master will be delighted to be interrupted in his work by your introducing an already loyal follower to his attention." He drawled, purposefully wiping his expression blank.

Edgar turned to face his captive, a predatory glint in his hard, dark eyes. "Don't worry your silly little head, Lucy. You won't be interrupting anything." Tightening the already bruising grip on Lucius' arm, Edgar pushed him through the door of the nearest dungeon. "Here we wait." He said with a vicious grin, locking the door securely with a set of vicious wards and settling himself on a conjured chair directly blocking the cell entrance.

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Harry surveyed his prisoners, contempt for their pathetic plight so strong he could taste it. Sniveling weasels fighting to the death for a cause that would never win. A cause so outdated it was more legend than truth. A kinder, better man might have pitied them, but he could not feel anything but bitter contempt.

Hermione's luminous brown eyes were watching his pacing. Hurt and fear radiated from her, giving him a wave of satisfaction. They would be sorry they ever lived before he finished with them. Snape was nearly finished. If he tortured him any more today the game would be over, the man was millimeters from drooling and calling Hermione mummy. It wouldn't do to end his favorite amusement so quickly.

With a flick on his wrist he sent the cruciatus curse through Hermione's unsuspecting form. She dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. Her screams were music to his ears. He held the curse until the screams stopped and then released it. "A little something to remember me by," he said cruelly as he stepped from the call and disappeared down the corridor.

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A/N: First thank you so much for reading! I have been feeling guilty for weeks for not finishing this chapter. Combine bronchitis, a family reunion and a forty hour work week and there is a stunning lack of time for writing. Please drop me a review whether you like it or not!


	12. Part XI: All According to Plan

Part XI: All According to Plan

Edgar leapt to his feet as Harry swept down the corridor. "My Lord," he sketched a low bow, "You have a visitor."

"Cryptic messages may have been for forte before Yaxley, but you will do well to remember they irritate me." Potter drawled, looking past his minion and into the cell where Lucius Malfoy stood fuming silently, his silvery blond hair glowing in the dim light. "However, in light of this gift, I am prepared to forgive you. Now leave us."

Without a seconds hesitation Yaxley stumbled backwards down the corridor, bowing as he walked until he disappeared form view.

"Are you deaf Malfoy? Or stupider than I dreamed? Did I not tell you that you were not welcome here?"

"Y-yes my Lord." Lucius stuttered.

"You will regret this disobedience Lucius."

The threat seemed to hover in the air as Harry turned and stalked out of the dungeons without a backwards glance. Had he looked backwards he would have seen Lucius smile.

Harry was furious.

It was insupportable that so many had insinuated themselves into his circle with neither warning nor invitation. And to have a sycophant like Malfoy in his castle was not to be tolerated. Not even the thought of his other prisoners was enough to satiate his rage. Yaxley was a greater fool than he'd ever imagined.

He understood why Yaxley had been fooled by Hermione, she was a remarkably attractive young woman now that she had done away with her birds nest hair and permanent ink stains and men like Yaxley were not know for following their brains. Likely she shagged him into submission and he, like a big, dumb mutt, fell in line. Malfoy, on the other hand, was unforgivable.

Harry had put considerable effort into banishing Malfoy from the ancestral castle and even more work into the subtle recruiting of agents who had nothing to do with the old cause. Yaxley was an exception he already regretted. He had accepted the ex Death Eater into his fold because the man was a shameless mercenary. He had no loyalties beyond the life and comfort of himself. Such men were perfect: easy to control. It was impossible to be betrayed by someone like Yaxley because you never trusted them. If Harry could show Yaxley that life away from Arundel and the organization was much less comfortable than his current life, then he had nothing to worry about, but if he punished Yaxley, it would have to be with death or he would risk rebellion. And Yaxley was still to useful to be discarded.

After a brief moment of pondering, Harry smiled. It was the perfect plan.

Hermione had felt that kind of pain in her entire life. She cowered on the cold stone floor, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her legs, tears dripping down her face. She wasn't really crying. Her breathing was careful and measured and none of the usual sobbing noises escaped her throat. She felt numb inside. Harry, her precious Harry, was dead. The man inhabiting his body was no more Harry than she was a part of this floor.

"Hermione?" Severus' gentle voice intruded on her sorrow. "Hermione, you can't give in to this."

Anger surged through her and she pushed herself into a sitting position so she could glare effectively.

Severus met her glare with sympathetic eyes. "You can't let it beat you. You have to be strong or he wins."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "In case it slipped your notice, we're locked in a cell being tortured by my former best friend. I think its fair to say we've lost this one."

Severus opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again at the sound of footsteps down the hall. His entire body ached and he wanted to join Hermione in hugging the floor. But he had a plan. It wasn't a good plan, to be honest it stank of Gryffindor heroics and would probably end in death, but it was a plan.

It wasn't Harry who appeared at their door. Instead it was Edgar Yaxley's familiar frame and leering smile that appeared on the other side of the bars. "Well, well well," he drawled smugly, "Severus Snape. I thought Voldemort killed you ages ago."

"He tried," Severus replied darkly, earning an appreciative chuckle. "What do you want, Yaxley?"

"Just come for my present." Edgar replied, leering at Hermione. "This Dark Lord knows how to reward his loyal followers. Too bad you seem to be on his bad side or he might have let you keep her."

Severus struggled to his feet, but he was not quick enough to cut off Edgar who slipped through the wards and pulled Hermione to her feet. Yaxley threw a careless stunning spell in Severus' direction and, laughing, carried the fighting Hermione from the cell.

"Feisty one aren't you?" he asked suggestively. "Might want to save some of that energy, girly, I've got plans for us."

"Get your hands off me." Hermione cried, flailing her arms ineffectually in the direction of his face.

"Now , now," he said, pinning her wrists with one large hand and effectively stopping her fight, "no use fighting it darlin'. The Dark Lord rewards his loyal followers. You're my birthday present, and I plan to enjoy you thoroughly."

Lucius Malfoy was a happy man.

Admittedly, this was not the plan, the dungeons were wet and it would take an entire bottle of his imported peppermint shampoo to get the smell out of his hair, but Lucius was happy.

There were several reasons to be glad, and he could thank his old rival Yaxley for most of them. For one thing, anyone else would have searched for the spare wand he kept at his waist. A more competent guard also would have shackled his prisoner as well as insuring the wards were up to snuff. This hypothetical, competent guard may even have checked the pockets of Lucius' robe for potions or other deadly concealed weapons. Fortunately, Yaxley never had been one for thoroughness, or competence, come to think of it.

Yes Lucius was a very happy man. Were it not for the ears he was certain were even now listening from a few yards away he would have been tempted to whistle while he pulled a small phial of muddy-looking liquid from the inner pocket of his robes. He undid the stopped and carefully added a single black hair. After some gentle shaking the potion turned a murky green.

Lucius raised the bottle in a silent toast and downed it in a single gulp.

A/n: I'm back! I know it's been unforgivably long since I last updated anything, but for those of you still with me, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I do plan to finish this story eventually and I hope you will continue to check in and follow along when I manage to post.


	13. Part XII: Be My Escape

Part XII: Be My Escape

Severus came to consciousness slowly. Yaxley had always been good at stunning spells. His head hurt now, along with every muscle in his body, including his heart. _Hermione,_ Just thinking her name brought a fresh wave of pain and frustration. Innocent, beautiful Hermione was in the hands of a sex-crazed ex Death Eater at the behest of her best friend. He had to help her. Slytherin cunning be damned. The first opportunity that presented itself he would get out and get her.

--

Lucius ran a cautious hand through his new head of short, unruly black hair. He hated polyjuice potion, but it had its advantages. Straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath for courage he stepped up to the wards. The raw magic power of the wards hummed against his skin as he moved through them, cautiously testing each step with an outstretched hand. When he reached the freedom of the hall he couldn't suppress a proud smirk. Potter may think he had the place wired, but he had stupidly chosen not to add additional wards to those set out by the Malfoy ancestors, wards that Lucius knew better than any other living being, wards that he had changed to accept him as well as Potter.

Now all he had to do was find and kill Yaxley and he could return to his summer home and to peace. Just how he was going to do that, Lucius wasn't sure.

He surveyed the hallway and strained his ears to ensure Yaxley and Potter had truly gone. Yaxley he could handle, but it Potter appeared the game was up. He could hear the gentle hum of voices to his right, best go left then. He passed two empty cells and then came across a sight that lightened his heart and brought a bounce to his step.

Three stalls down from where Yaxley dumped him lay Severus Snape. He had a suspicious blank spot in his mind from the last time he and Severus met. Apparently this was the secret information that Severus was so eager to obtain. He smirked and turned to go, but the temptation was too much. Smoothly as a cat stalking its prey he turned and slunk into the cell.

"You need a hobby, Potter." Severus spat without moving from the prone position on the wet stone floor.

"Insolence Severus?" Lucius purred.

"Polyjuice, Lucius?" Severus responded, genuine curiosity coloring his voice. He turned his head so he could look at the (temporarily) black haired man. The thing no one seemed to remember with polyjuice was its ineffectiveness on one's vocal cords. He had known Lucius for decades, there was no mistaking the purring drawl Lucius had cultivated since his early teens.

Lucius chuckled, "You always were good with disguises."

"What do you want Lucius? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm rather busy."

"Don't be stupid Severus. This castle has been my family's home for generations, I know at least eight ways to get out of here that the Potter brat couldn't dream of, but I want Yaxley."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Yaxley and Malfoy had always hated one another ever since Hogwarts days. For once it appeared that this grudge would work to his advantage. It would be best not to appear too eager. "Not that I don't love listening to you wax poetic about your personal vendetta, but I've already been tortured today so if you have nothing better to do, please leave."

"You're going to help me." Lucius said, cutting to the point in an embarrassingly Gryffindor maneuver.

"Why would I?"

"Because I can get you out of here," was the simple reply.

--

Hermione sat on the edge of Edgar's bed in stony silence. The large man had deposited her on the soft mattress and, by the gleam in his eye and the bulge in his pants, had been perfectly ready to ravish her the moment he could get his trousers down. But fate, it seemed, had not entirely abandoned her.

Seconds after Edgar's door slammed shut a small black owl darted through the open window with a small scroll tightly clenched in its feet. Taking only enough time to fasten Hermione's restraints to the bedpost, Edgar took the missive. As he read his face turned deathly pale. Without a word he tossed the parchment into the blazing fire and hurried out of the room.

Five minutes of twisting and tugging had only tightened the magically created manacles about her wrists and ankles and Hermione had given up in frustration when she lost all feeling in her feet and most of the feeling in her hands. Now she sat, unmoving, her mind racing to form a plan.

Severus had been right about Gryffindor plans. Everything she came up with invariably ended with her being decapitated, falling six stories to splatter on the pavement, or in some other gruesome fashion meeting a sudden death. She thought the plans where her death was accompanied by the death of Yaxley, Harry or countless of Harry's sycophants were quite clever, but she preferred not to prove her Gryffindor courage by becoming cannon fodder.

She heard footsteps echoing in the hall and winced. Thanks to her fruitless struggling, her arms were pinned behind her and she could move less than an inch in any direction. She could feel the hard wood of her wand digging into her calf and wondered if she dare try to grab it. As the steps came to a stop outside her rooms he decided it would be better to wait. If she fumbled her wand it would be lost or found and then what could she do.

The door swung open silently and Edgar appeared, an evil grin upon his face. "Miss me?" he asked cruelly.

Hermione glared, but said nothing.

Twirling his wand in one hand like a bad horror movie Edgar walked in a narrow semi-circle around the bedpost where Hermione was tied. "He has great plans for you, my master. Seems a shame to waste the precious time you have left all tied up."

Hermione channeled her inner Severus and responded with the slight raising of one eyebrow and nothing else. Inside she was cold with dread. Harry had plans for Ginny too, and now she was dead.

Edgar's face hardened. Clearly he had hoped for a more dramatic response.

'_Sick bastard probably hoped I'd beg him to let me go. Perhaps offer my virtue in exchange for my life.' _Hermione thought furiously.

"Alright then. Have it your way." Yaxley growled, pressing his wand into the hollow of her throat. "Imperious."

A sudden calm flooded Hermione's brain and her tense muscles relaxed.

"Much better," Yaxley said, reaching over to loosen the ropes that held her hands together. "Now we can have some fun."

--

Harry examined the parchment in his hands with an immense feeling of satisfaction. It was perfect. He rolled the parchment and tied it to a post owl's foot and watched happily as the owl soared from his window and headed north.

A/N: Huge THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It was great to see I haven't lost all of you through my hiatus. With final exams looming on the horizon it may be a few weeks before I can get back to this story so forgive the short chapter. I thought something was better than nothing.

PLEASE REVIEW (it makes my day)


	14. Part XIII: Lie To Me

Part XIII: Lie to Me

Albus,

Severus is dead. I cannot take the hypocrisy of this world any longer. Here is my wand, I won't be needing it. I am going away to live with family. Please do not try to contact me.

- Hermione

It took quite a shock to crack Albus' shiny-happy-grandfather façade, but this did. The hand writing on the parchment looked exactly like Hermione's and the wand was the one she had stolen from Bellatrix many years ago - walnut and dragon heartstring, 12.5 inches, unyielding . Even more disturbing, the wand was cracked clearly in half so to be completely useless.

"Albus?" Minerva McGonagall touched him gently on the shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

Albus smiled at his old friend, but the smile never quite reached his eyes. "Hermione has left us. And there is a possibility it was of her own free will."

Minerva's eyes widened, but she wisely kept her comments to herself.

"We'll meet in my office in half an hour. You know who to contact, I trust."

"Of course."

With a distracted nod Albus rose from the dining table and made his way out of the Great Hall. She watched him chat merrily with one of the new professors, her heart heavy. Hermione was a great favorite with all of them. To lose her would be terrible.

She rose to follow Dumbledore, stopping along the table to whisper to professors Sprout, Flitwick and Pomfrey of the meeting. Though none of these professors had been an active part of the Order, they had proven themselves trustworthy and, over the decades, formed a sort of inner circle that assisted Dumbledore when needed with their unconditional support, humor and advice.

--

The dungeons of Arundel Castle were extensive. Severus was almost glad for Lucius' company as they wove their way past dank cell after dank cell, even if he was pretty sure they were going in circles. It might have been funny, if Severus had been the kind of man to find stupidity entertaining.  
Unfortunately the years of attempting to cram knowledge into the minds of squirming little children had robbed him of any appreciation he may have had for the ridiculous. So instead of amused Severus was irritated, and also cold.

"If I'd known you'd never been down here before, I would have stayed in my cell." He drawled.

Lucius stiffened, but kept silent.

Disappointing.

Severus decided to try a different tactic. "I forgot. Servants didn't enter the dungeons did they?" He placed a hand on Lucius' shoulder in mock commiseration, "Never mind then. I'm sure you'll find the servants stairs soon enough and then you won't feel so turned about."

"Shut up." Lucius hissed, whirling quickly to face Severus, his pale eyes shooting daggers. "I got you out of that cell. Would a little gratitude or silence be too much to ask?"

Severus smirked. Reciprocity was something most Slytherin soon learned to use to their advantage. Lucius wanted Severus' loyalty that much was obvious. What was less than obvious was why.

Lucius had always been good a charms. True he hadn't been able to beat Severus in a duel since they were teenagers, but against a thug like Yaxley he would have difficulty losing. So why did he need Severus? He had to know that Severus was a useless hostage considering the fact that no one – save perhaps Hermione –wanted him alive.

It wasn't likely that Lucius had any grand plans to assassinate Potter and take back the Malfoy homestead. The blonde's plans were usually brief and completely self serving. He would want to kill Yaxley and then get out of the castle. Now how was he, Severus Snape, going to convince Lucius Malfoy that a Muggle-born witch was a big enough deal to risk capture for. Maybe they would get lucky and Hermione would be with Yaxley when they found her, but more likely they would accost Yaxley is some deserted corridor and then he would have to choose between a free ride to safety from Lucius or a suicide rescue mission on his own.

--

"You can't possibly think she wrote this herself Albus." Poppy said, her eyes were full of unshed tears, but her voice was steady and she was determined that they would not abandon Hermione when she likely needed them most. "That girl was as much a part of this world as you are, she wouldn't leave. Even if--" her voice wavered for a moment, "even if Severus is dead, I don't think she would leave."

"I have to agree with Poppy, Albus." Pomona said with a decisive nod of her head, as if her agreement was the only thing standing between them and a grand rescue mission.

"How can you believe it?" Minerva asked. Her sharp eyes hadn't left the headmaster's face since their meeting had begun twenty-minute earlier. Albus believed it. She didn't understand why, but he know something they didn't and that something made him believe that the brightest witch to come through Hogwarts in years had voluntarily given up their entire world.

Albus sighed. "When Severus left to find Harry, Hermione was…" he paused thoughtfully, searching for the right word.

"Lost." Poppy supplied. "When I took her a stack of medi-potions, she had the same look the Muggle born first years have at sorting – lost and lonely and more than a little scared."

Albus nodded. "More even than that though. He sent her a letter. From it she figured out where he was and she came to me for help. She wanted us to go after him, wands blazing and ensure that Harry wouldn't hurt him."

"The poor dear," Pomona said softly, earning a stern look from Minerva.

"You refused of course." Minerva prompted.

"What choice did I have? Severus understands the risks involved and he is the best we have since the battle. But Hermione did not – would not understand."

"She went after him?"

"Yes." Albus looked suddenly old and very tired. "Nothing I could say would stop her, and if Severus is really gone…"

"She has nothing to come back for." Minerva finished.

Filius, who had been working quietly over the parchment, testing for enchantments of every variety, raised his head to survey the group. "I can't find anything wrong with it, Albus. Hermione wrote this note."

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A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to all of those who have been so great in reviewing. My muse is loving the feedback as much as I am so hopefully I will have another update soon! Please keep those Reviews coming!!


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